The grand tour in the eighteenth century

^*» * • • • -«y ¥tA

^ •" <r "'^

%.^"
.^^%

;* ^^^\ •.«

. j"^-^-^ '-W^/ ^^'\ °^M' y% .^^, ^.

"^^o./

t_^'.

-ee^o^

'''\<^ <^'<^''J^ *o*--..-\^ "<.-^?*?^V* *»*•
>*.i5^:>t. 60*..i^.% .**\-.:^.V .,o*..-^,*°o

9^<cV

V^

'S'.^V

»^.**_ .,o*..i^,% .**\-J^l.V ,.0*,.i^,*o, ^^<>

'**.<" *'

O 4-1

■ *^/;ak-\ **'►;%>";•.% *''\';6ik'\. /'';%<?;•. ^

fl°A

THE AMPHITHEATER AT ARLES AFTER THE RE-
MOVAL OF MOST OF THE HOUSES FROM THE
ENCLOSURE

THE GRAND TOUR

IN THE

Eighteenth Century

BY

WILLIAM EDWARD MEAD

IVith illustrations ^
from contemporary prints

BOSTON AND NEW YORK

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

fCbe Uliteritfibe "^xtii Cambribge

1914

Co>^4^

^

lien

COPYRIGHT, 1014, BY WILLIAM KDWAKI) MKAD
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

tCji: ;

THIS FIRST EDITION CONSISTS OF
THREE HUNDRED COPIES OF WHICH THIS IS

DEC -b 1914

•CI.A 387985

TO

K. C. M.

JVho makes every journey a joy

PREFACE

The subject presented in the following pages has been
strangely neglected; for until recent years there has been
little attempt to treat comprehensively and in detail one of
the most significant chapters in the social history of England
in the eighteenth and earlier centuries — the tour in foreign
countries for the sake of education. The materials are
abundant, — indeed, embarrassingly so, — but they have
never been systematically utilized. As a rule, the whole
matter has been disposed of by historians in a paragraph
or two. The more detailed studies have mainly dealt with
the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. M. Babcau's
delightful sketch of Lcs Voyageurs en France covers about
three centuries, but is limited to a discussion of travel in one
country. Yet few things had a more far-reaching influence
upon the life and thought of Englishmen than the grand
tour, which permitted them in the most impressionable
period of their lives to survey other lands, other types of
society and government, and to carry home something of
the best — and too often of the worst — that the Continent
had to offer.

In a subject so limitless in its possible range there is
obviously much for which we cannot afford the space. The
original intention was to trace the growth of English travel
on the Continent from the time of the Revival of Learning
to the outbreak of the French Revolution. But owing to
the appearance of Mr. Bates's Touring in 1600 this extensive
programme was modified to deal, in the main, with the grand
tour in the latter half of the eighteenth century, with an
occasional glance at the travel of an earlier generati(Mi. It
is, perhaps, hardly necessary to remark that the present
book is in no sense a systematic guide to eighteenth-century
Europe, and that it attempts no extended account of any of

vii

PREFACE

the countries visited on the grand tour. In so far as places
are mentioned or described, they are included because they
mark important points on the routes commonly followed
and illustrate what eighteenth-century tourists saw, but of
course not all that they saw.

To write about the grand tour is, indeed, very much like
writing about things in general, since there is an endless
multitude of possible topics to be included. Practical neces-
sity compels the exclusion of material which is in itself both
interesting and suggestive, but which, if presented in de-
tail, would obscure the features essential to a comprehensive
survey. For this reason we must limit our view to the re-
gions chiefly visited on the grand tour — France, Italy, Ger-
many, and the Low Countries, with a mere glance at Spain
and Switzerland and other parts of Europe. But Denmark,
Norway, Sweden, Russia, Hungary, Greece, Turkey do not
come into our plan, not because they were in themselves
unimportant in the eighteenth century, but because they
were less commonly visited by English tourists than some
other parts of Europe. There is, moreover, in this rapid
sketch little attempt to dwell upon places of secondary inter-
est, but emphasis is laid upon the most representative cities
on the great routes. For our purpose the towns of the
Continent are significant only in proportion as they at-
tracted English tourists.

As for the materials used in the preparation of this book,
some of them are enumerated in a bibliographical note. But
it may not be improper to remark that in repeated journeys
and a residence of several years on the Continent I have
become familiar with practically every important place
visited on the grand tour and have endeavored by actual
observation of old roads and mountain passes to realize the
conditions under which one traveled in the generation pre-
ceding the French Revolution. Amid the wilderness of
error that abounds in the older books of travel, I cannot
safely pretend in every case to have hit upon the exact
truth, but at all events I have not deliberately aimed to
increase the mass of misinformation already in print.

viii

PREFACE

In conclusion, I offer my sincere thanks to the officials of
libraries in this country and abroad for the facilities which
they have generously placed at my disposal, and without
which this book would be far more imperfect than it now is.
To my colleague, Professor George M. Dutcher, I am much
indebted for a revision of the second chapter; to Mr. Archi-
bald Cattell, of Chicago, for a careful reading of the proof
sheets ; and to my wife for proof-reading and aid in preparing
the index.

In view of the great war that is now devastating Europe,
it is important to note that the corrected page proofs of the
present book were returned to the printers a few days before
the outbreak of hostilities.

W. E. M.

October i, 1914.

CONTENTS

I. Introductory i

II. Europe before the French Revolution 5

III. Water Travel

I. the ENGLISH CHANNEL ... 29

II. FRANCE 32

III. ITALY 33

IV. GERMANY 37

V. HOLLAND AND BELGIUM • • • 39

IV. Roads

I. Introductory . . ... . 43

II. FRANCE 44

III. ITALY 46

IV. GERMANY 49

V. THE LOW COUNTRIES . . . . 5 1

V. Carriages

I. FRANCE 52

II. ITALY 61

III. GERMANY 68

IV. THE LOW COUNTRIES . . . -12

VI. Inns

I. Introductory 75

II. FRENCH INNS 78

III. ITALIAN INNS 84

IV. INNS IN GERMANY .... 95

V. THE INNS OF THE LOW COUNTRIES . lOO

VII. The Tourist and the Tutor . . , 103

xi

CONTENTS

VIII. Some Dangers and Annoyances . . .140

IX. The Cost of Travel . . . ,170

X. The Continental Tour: France and Spain 207

XI. Switzerland and the Mountains . . 255

XII. Italy 269

XIII. Germany . . . . . . . 335

XIV. The Low Countries 364

XV. Contemporary Comment on the Grand Tour 375

Bibliographical Note 463

Index 471

ILLUSTRATIONS

The Amphitheater at Arles after the Removal
of most of the houses from the enclosure
(p. 243) Frontispiece

From an old engraving.

A French Port 30

After a painting by Joseph Vernet. From "Institutions,
Usages and Customs of the Eighteenth Century,'' by Paul
La Croix

The Grand Tournament of the Boatmen of Paris
IN 1 75 1, between Pont-au-change and Pont

Notre-Dame 32

From an Eighteenth- Century print.

The Water Journey from Padua to Venice —
The Remulcio towing the Burcello . . 34

From Edward Wright's "Observations," 1730.

A Ferry on the Po 36

From Edward Wright's "Observations," 1730.

On a Dutch Canal in Winter . . . .40

From "Holland," by Nico Jungman.

A Diligence 54

From "La Locomotion," by 0. Uzanne.

The Duomo and the Baptistery, Pistoia . .110
From a photograph.

An Interrupted Journey 144

From "Les Brigands," by Franz Funck-Brentano.

A Collection of Ancient Artistic Treasures . 204

From Samuel Foote's "Dramatic Works."
xiii

ILLUSTRATIONS

Crowning the Bust of Voltaire at the Theatre

pRANgAis IN 1778 216

From " Letters, Sciences and Arts in the Eighteenth Century"
by Paul La Croix.

London in Holiday Attire — The Lord Mayor's
Procession 218

From Hogarth's Industry and Idleness, 1747.

The Gardens and West Front of the Palace
OF the Tuileries at the End of the Eight-
eenth Century ^ 222

From " Travels from Hamburg to Paris,'' by Thomas Holer oft.

South Side of the Roman Triumphal Arch at
Orange, dedicated to the Emperor Tiberius . 242

From a photograph in the Boston Public Library.

Roman Temple — The Maison Carree at NImes . 244
From a photograph in the Boston Public Library.

Regatta on the Grand Canal, Venice . . 294

From a photograph in the Boston Public Library of a paint-
ing by Antonio Canaletto

Mausoleum of Theodoric at Ravenna . . 332

From a photograph.

Towing a Vessel up the Rhine — the Town and
Castle of Hammerstein in the Background . 354

From " The Rhine," by Thomas Cogan.

The Old Town and Canal -

- Hamburg

. 360

From a photograph.

A Macaroni

• • •

. 396

From "English Costume," by George Church.

The Coliseum 400

From a print by Piranesi in the second half of the Eight-
eenth Century.

THE GRAND TOUR
IN THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

THE GRAND TOUR IN THE
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTORY

It is hardly necessary to remark that extensive foreign
travel was nothing new to Englishmen of the eighteenth
century. Journeys to Rome were not uncommon in the
time of Bede, and, as Chaucer incidentally remarks, the
long and hazardous pilgrimage to Jerusalem was thrice
accomplished by the Wife of Bath, who unquestionably
had no lack of companions. Many women before the four-
teenth century had actually made that journey. The pil-
grimage to Compostella in Spain was made by vast throngs
in the Middle Ages. Voyages of discovery in all parts of
the world had already become common in the reign of
Elizabeth. Migration to America took tens of thousands
of colonists across the Atlantic in the seventeenth century.

In comparison with these perilous ocean voyages the
tour of the Continent of Europe, though by no means easy
or entirely free from danger, was a mere pleasure trip,
and Englishmen of rank had long been accustomed to
make it. Mr. Sidney Lee well says: "The value of
foreign travel as a means of education was never better
understood, in spite of rudimentary means of locomotion,
than by the upper classes of Elizabethan England. All
who drank deep of the new culture had seen the wonders
of the world abroad." ^ In another place he remarks:
"Throughout the century young Englishmen of good fam-
ily invariably completed their education in foreign travel
and by attendance at a foreign university. In many quar-
ters the practice was deemed to be perilous to the students'

I

INTRODUCTORY

religion and morals. The foundation of Trinity College,
Dublin, in 1592, was justified on the ground 'that many
of our people have usually heretofore used to travel into
France, Italy, and Spain, to get learning in such foreign
universities, whereby they have been infected with popery
and other ill qualities.'^ But the usage of youthful pere-
grination was barely affected by such suspicions. The
young Englishman's educational tour often extended to
Italy and Germany as well as to France, but France was
rarely omitted, and many youths confined their excursions
to French territory." ^

After the reign of Elizabeth the stream of travel to for-
eign parts, in spite of occasional interruption by Conti-
nental wars, continued to flow ; and what came to be known
as "the grand tour" ^ attained in the eighteenth century
a more widely diffused popularity than it had ever before
known. Ever since the Renaissance the tide of travel —
particularly to Italy — from various countries of Europe
had ebbed and flowed. But in the eighteenth century
what had been a few generations earlier a matter of extreme
difficulty, and even danger, became relatively easy. An-
noyance and privation might still be expected here and
there, but not in sufficient measure to deter one in tolerable
health from the undertaking.

This growing interest of Englishmen in foreign countries,
especially France and Italy and the Low Countries, and,
to some degree, Germany, was due to a multitude of causes :
to the centering of attention upon the Continent by the
War of the Spanish Succession and other conflicts, to
the popularity of French fashions notwithstanding the
traditional hostility to France, to the greater perfection
of means of transportation, to the increase of foreign com-
merce, to the rapidly growing wealth and broadening out-
look of Englishmen, and to the multitudinous attractions
of the Continent — social, artistic, architectural, literary,
historical — which were sufficient to draw tourists of every
taste, whether for enlarging their stock of knowledge or for
mere pleasure.

2

INTRODUCTORY

The grand tour was, at least in intention, not merely a
pleasurable round of travel, but an indispensable form of
education for young men in the higher ranks of society.
When made in approved fashion, in the company of a
competent tutor, the grand tour meant a carefully planned
journey through France and Italy and a return journey
through Germany and the Low Countries. It was com-
monly necessary, on the way to or from Italy, to cross a
portion of Switzerland, or at least some of the mountains
belonging to the Alpine chains, but this part of the journey,
in so far as the mountains were concerned, was regarded
as a disagreeable necessity. Such a tour usually required
three years. Multitudes of independent travelers, un-
hampered by a tutor or by anything besides their ignorance,
of course visited the Continent without attempting the
conventional round, and many pupils traveling with a
tutor spent no more than a year or two abroad, but the
allowance of three years was not too long for a leisurely
survey of the principal countries and for getting some prac-
tical acquaintance with foreign languages.

Those who traveled abroad belonged, as a rule, just as
was the case in the sixteenth century, to a picked class,
and with their aristocratic temper, their wealth, and their
insular characteristics, they presented, along with marked
individual differences, a well-defined tourist type. The
traits of successive generations of English travelers upon
the Continent were early combined to form the well-
known Englishman of the Continental stage — a carica-
ture, indeed, but one reproducing many features drawn
from life. Even in our time the old type is not altogether
extinct, and may be occasionally encountered in a railway
carriage or at a mountain inn, but it is daily becoming
more rare.

Our main theme is, then, the touring of Englishmen upon
the Continent of Europe in the eighteenth century. Prac-
tical considerations of space, as well as the actual practice
of all but an insignificant fraction of tourists, compel us
to limit our view to France, Switzerland, Italy, Germany,

3

INTRODUCTORY

the Low Countries. But this limitation has the advantage
of permitting us to view in more detail the field that we
undertake to survey.

We must not forget in any part of this discussion that
not merely in England but throughout Europe the tutorial
system was the generally approved method for the educa-
tion of young men of qualit}'', and that what was in all
essentials the grand tour was made under the guidance of
a traveling tutor by the scions of noble families of France,
Germany, Holland, and other countries of Europe. Travel
was regarded as an essential finish of one's edi^cation,
whether one traveled alone or with a tutor. The fashion
of travel once established, it often tempted men, and even
women, of mature years to undertake extended journeys.
The itinerary, of course, varied somewhat according to
personal tastes and special needs, but in general the regions
visited by tourists bom on the Continent were substantially
the same as those that attracted Englishmen.

We see, then, that wide travel for education or for pleas-
ure was in no sense peculiar to Englishmen, — although as
a class they were best able to aflord the expense, — but
rather a conformity on their part to a practice that had
become traditional among the upper classes of Europe —
"that noble and ancient custom of traveling, a custom so
\'isibly tending to enrich the mind with knowledge, to rec-
tify the judgment, to remove the prejudices of education,
to compose the outward manners, and in a word to form
the complete gentleman." ^

CHAPTER II

EUROPE BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

From what has already been said, it is clear that the
grand tour, with all that it impHes, forms an important
chapter in the history of European culture, and that it
must be studied from that point of view if it is to be more
than a merely curious record of travel in foreign countries.
Taken in the broadest sense, the grand tour includes every-
thing that one might see or hear in the course of long-con-
tinued travel. But as such an extension of the meaning
would lay upon us an impossible task, we must in the study
before us impose some well-defined limitations.

It is obviously no part of our duty to review in detail the
complicated history of Europe in the eighteenth century.
We are concerned with the course of events on the Continent
only in so far as they affected the tourist. But a clear
understanding of a few fundamental facts is imperative.
Most important is it to bear in mind that participation by
the common people in the work of government was rela-
tively slight in nearly every country of the Continent, and
only to a moderate degree permitted in England. Minor
offices might be filled by persons of no importance, and in
some cases men of humble origin rose to positions of great
influence, but the policy of the government, the final deci-
sion in every matter that might affect the welfare of the
ruling class as well as of the uncounted multitude, was
commonly reserved for the supreme ruler. It is true that
despotism became less harsh with each succeeding genera-
tion, but in theory it was hampered by few restrictions.
The ruler, with his broad vision of the needs of his people,
was expected to govern as a wise father governs his family.

5

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

Their interests were supposed to be his. If the ruler was
both wise and good, the people prospered; but in any
case they were expected to accept without murmuring the
decisions of their betters.

As may be inferred, the mass of the population through-
out Europe was made up of plain and simple folk. For
the most part they were occupied with agriculture and
lived a very humble Hfe. Cities were relatively, as well as
actually, far smaller than they are to-day.^ Manufac-
turing was attempted on a small scale, particularly after
the Seven Years' War, but at best it was insignificarft and
in general not greatly encouraged. As a result, trade and
commerce lacked incentive, and, moreover, suffered under
the burden of numberless regulations due to narrow preju-
dice and imperfect knowledge of the laws governing national
wealth. Widespread poverty characterized the greater part
of Europe.

Particularly notable, too, as a result of the universal ac-
ceptance of the doctrine of the "Balance of Power," was
the division of large portions of Europe among nations
that had nothing to do with the organic historical develop-
ment of the regions they appropriated. Such was espe-
cially the case in Italy.

Into the life of the eighteenth century came the fearful
upheaval of the French Revolution, which marks a turn-
ing-point in the history of every country of western Europe.
The minds of men were themselves transformed — that
was the Revolution. A thousand conceptions, social and
political, that had seemed established for ever were at
length shattered under the long-continued assaults of
philosophers and political theorists, and systems of govern-
ment that under manifold differences in externals were
alike in exalting the personal will of the ruler were sooner
or later greatly modified. In some cases, as in France, the
change in institutions was immediate and sweeping; in
others, as in Germany and Italy, the transformation was
more gradual ; but in all, the old state of things was doomed.

The thirty years or so just preceding the Revolution are

6

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

those that most concern us in this study, though we shall
often have occasion to look back to the early eighteenth
century — and sometimes to the seventeenth.

To reaHze the conditions under which men lived in the
eighteenth century is not easy. There are, indeed, only
three or four generations between us and the gay throngs
that crowded the salons of Paris before the Revolution.
But the eighteenth century, notwithstanding its nearness in
time, and the immense mass of information that we have
about it, appears strangely remote, separated from us as
it is by the great gulf of the French Revolution. The cen-
tury of which men still vigorous have known many living
representatives impresses us as markedly different in tem-
per and point of view from our own. In a thousand ways
the difference forces itself upon even the most careless
observer — in the forms of government, in the rigid struc-
ture of society, in the fashions of dress, in the popular
amusements, in the lack of facilities for travel and com-
munication — in short, in all those particulars which dis-
tinguish the old, unprogressive regime with its numberless
feudal survivals from our own bustling, democratic age.

Looking at the matter from one point of view we may
say that there is no side of eighteenth-century life that
might not in some way affect the tourist, but for our purpose
the problem is much simpler. We need to know something
of the political systems of the countries visited on the
grand tour, for to those systems were due many of the
restrictions laid upon the tourist. We need to know the
times when peace prevailed, for, obviously, while there is
war the average man will not undertake a tour, but will
remain safely at home. We need to know of the means of
travel, of the state of the roads and where they ran, of the
inns and how one fared in them, of fashionable society and
how it impressed the tourist, as well as the impression the
tourist made upon society : in short, in so far as is possible
in a book that must touch many things lightly if at all,
we must endeavor to follow the tourist from place to place
and see with him some of the sights that most interested

7

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

him. In this way we may be able in some degree to estimate
the value of the grand tour as a means of culture.

Besides all this, it is worth while to note that the eight-
eenth century, particularly during the first half, was a
time of depression in poetry and art and architecture, and
that for a time it appeared to be at a standstill in all moral
and religious progress. But there was, nevertheless, in
almost every field of human activity a new spirit stirring
which wrought an amazing change before the century came
to an end.

In view of the immensity of the field, it is obvious that
to trace in any considerable detail the differences between
the old time and the new would involve a review of the
social history of Europe from the time of Louis XIV to the
present, and to do that here is, of course, out of the ques-
tion. We can, however, glance at the three or four countries
that most attracted the English tourist and form some
conception of the general conditions under which one trav-
eled in the eighteenth century.

Of all these countries we must in some measure reshape
our modem notions if we are to understand what the
grand tour a hundred and fifty years ago really meant.
Obviously, each country presented some features not ex-
actly paralleled elsewhere, and the most characteristic of
these we must try to realize. But we must remember that,
owing to the complexity and variety of the facts and the
frequent changes in details of administration, a general
statement must ignore many minor details, and in some
cases must be taken as a mere approximation to the truth.

II

As a preliminary to our later study we may well glance
for a moment at eighteenth-century England, and then at
the countries commonly visited on the grand tour. Until
the last decade or two England has been a synonym for
conservatism. But how different in a thousand ways is
the England of our time from that of a century and a half

8

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

ago ! In comparison with the England that we know, eight-
eenth-century England was markedly provincial and insu-
lar. Until far beyond the middle of the century, English-
men, though always ambitious and aggressive, had not
enlarged their conceptions to the point of making England
the center of a world-power. But they felt with reason
that their country was the most favored land in Europe,
and everywhere they went they instinctively claimed pre-
eminence.

One inestimable advantage they had enjoyed for nearly
three centuries. Although since the close of the Middle
Ages almost every part of the Continent had been a bat-
tlefield, England, with the exception of the Puritan uprising
and the futile attempts to restore the line of the Stuarts,
had been free from war upon her own soil. And by her
fortunate insular situation she was practically secure against
attack from the Continent. The period since the Revolu-
tion of 1688 had been marked by increasing material pros-
perity, which had diffused habits of expensive living and
stimulated the desire to see life in other lands. Not every-
thing was perfect in eighteenth-century England. Great
inequalities prevailed. Parliament was unreformed. Social
conditions among the lower classes were pitiful. But while
there were vice and brutality and misery in eighteenth-
century England, as everywhere else, nowhere in Europe
was a man freer to live his own life and to express his own
views on society, politics, or religion.

Another fact worthy of note is that the country was
not overpopiilated. In 1750, England and Wales counted
6,400,000 inhabitants, and not until the end of the century
did the population rise to 9,000,000. London in the middle
of the eighteenth century had something like 600,000 in-
habitants, — no insignificant number, it is true, but not
so large as to preclude a man in society from the possibility
of knowing almost everybody of importance. Naturally,
then, society was more a unit than it is to-day. Men of
the upper social class had about the same education —
not too thorough, but including a tolerable acquaintance

9

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

with Latin and some knowledge of Greek. Every one who
wished to shine in society spent a part of his time in Lon-
don, usually gamed a little at one of the fashionable clubs,
and from the men of his own class took in the opinions
generally accepted on politics, morals, and religion.

A man in such a circle who had not seen Paris, to say
nothing of The Hague, the Rhine, and, above all, Venice
and Florence and Rome, could not aspire to be a leader of
fashionable society. Something provincial, some lack of
savoir-faire, would inevitably betray him. Sooner or later
the spell of Italy or France would be upon him, and woisild
lead him to the places that he must himself see if he would
be in a real sense a man of the world and in keeping with
the society in which he moved.

Ill

Nearest to England in point of distance was France, the
leader of the fashions of Europe and the greatest rival of
England in every part of the world. English commercial
and colonial expansion more than once brought the two
nations into conflict in the course of the century. Eight-
eenth-century France, just before the Revolution, occupied
a slightly larger territory than the present Republic.^ She
had not yet gained Savoy and Nice, but she had not yet
lost Alsace and she had acquired Lorraine in 1766.

Of the condition of France before the Revolution there
is so much that might be said that any brief generalization
is hazardous, for there had come down from the Middle
Ages multitudes of anomalous special privileges reserved
for the upper classes, and in this rapid summary we can
touch only on matters that are most typical and character-
istic.'^ But a rapid glance at the main features is imperative.

France presented a strildng contrast to England in gov-
ernment, in religion, in the structure of society, in habits of
living, in manners, in dress, — in short, in a thousand details
that make up the greater part of everyday existence. More-
over, France, taken by herself, was full of contradictory ele-

10

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

ments. Standing as she did in the forefront of civilization;
boasting the most brilliant philosophers and men of letters
in Europe, her life was throttled by a system of government
that was daily becoming more inadequate to the demands
of the time.

Notable, indeed, were the differences between the gov-
ernment of France and that of England. The centralizing
policy of Louis XIV had gradually brought France under
a system of administration that deprived the provinces of
political power and made the king's will supreme.^ A
powerful minister might relieve the king of the burden
of multiplied administrative detail, and even usurp au-
thority, but in effect the king was responsible. Yet,
though nominally absolute, he was in practice restrained
by a host of precedents and usages, surviving from the
days of feudalism.

This centralized authority was in many particulars sadly
inefficient and could not be bettered without a radical
reform from top to bottom. The regulation of the finances
was subject to continual alteration, but the sporadic change
resulted chiefly in making administration more difficult.
No head of government, however honest his intentions,
could bring harmony and justice out of the tangled con-
fusion of laws that had accumulated in France. Bureau-
cratic and cumbrous in its machinery, the government was
at the same time lavish and niggardly. It poured out money
like water at Versailles and often begrudged the most neces-
sary expenditures in the provinces. Between 1763 and
1789 the national debt enormously increased. Dishonesty
in handling public money was common. Too often, not
merit but favor brought advancement.

Moreover, the administration of government was med-
dlesome in the extreme and constantly interfering in the
smallest matters. This officiousness was the more exasper-
ating because apparently irrational and, in any case, not
applied to all classes alike. Under the old regime France
was doubtless in many respects a paradise, but only for the
chosen few.^

II

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

Next to the king stood at the head of the social order the
clergy and the nobility. They formed the privileged classes
and were in the main exempt from public burdens,^ though
they owned two fifths of all the land in France. In fact,
if we exclude the public domain from the estimate, their
possessions amounted to "one half of the Kingdom." ^ The
clergy and the nobles numbered but a thirtieth part of the
twenty-six millions in France, but they enjoyed an enor-
mous proportion of the income of the nation. Not only
did the clergy hold vast estates, but they also exacted tithes,
as was their right, and received, moreover, a considerable
annual income from voluntary offerings and bequests.
Without question, the Church of France in the eighteenth
century was, all in all, an institution of incalculable benefi-
cence as well as of great splendor. But luxury had deadened
the zeal of earlier days, and too often the Church served
as a convenient means of providing well-paid sinecures for
the younger sons of noble families.

In many parts of France the Church had estranged its
natural adherents and even embittered its own servants.
Although it possessed vast estates and enabled the great
dignitaries to live like princes, the minor clergy were sadly
underpaid, and in many cases lived little better than the
impoverished and starving people that they served. In
eighteenth-century England there was, before the great
religious awakening of the middle of the century, a prevail-
ing indifference to spiritual things. But there was no such
popular hostility to the clergy as was common in France;
for, particularly after the great religious revival, the Eng-
lish clergy took a genuine interest in the welfare of the poor;
whereas in France the higher clergy appeared chiefly con-
cerned to exact their tithes and to turn over their routine
duties to ill-paid curates.

As for the French nobility, they had long since lost most
of the political power they once possessed as a natural
right in their own districts; and unless kept at home by
poverty, they had, with few exceptions, given up living
upon their estates for the greater part of the year and

12

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

yielded to the attraction that drew all France to Paris and
the court of the king at Versailles.^ In their absence their
estates were managed by agents, who too often were un-
scrupulous and merciless.

But although as a class they had lost political power,
the nobility enjoyed many special privileges and had vast
influence at court and on the administration of govern-
ment. Theirs was an unquestioned social position. They
secured in the army and in the fleet the choicest places,
which gave them large revenues and little to do. Some of
the higher nobles had vast incomes from their estates and
lived in extravagant luxury. But the nobility almost
wholly escaped taxation.^ They were free from the burden
of the corvees, of compulsory military service, and of hav-
ing soldiers quartered upon them. They had the privilege
of selling their wine in the market thirty or forty days
before the peasant; they could pasture their cattle in the
meadows of the peasant ; they could keep a host of pigeons
that devoured the peasant's grain while he dared not kill
or take them; they could claim a certain proportion of
the peasant's grain or wine or fruit; and they could compel
him to use the seignorial oven for baking his bread. ^ These
survivals in the eighteenth century appeared increasingly
irrational, since what had given rise to the privileges was
no longer in existence. In short, as De Tocqueville re-
marks: "France was the only country in which the feudal
system had preserved its injurious and irritating charac-
teristics, while it had lost all those which were beneficial
or useful." *

Moreover, admission to the ranks and privileges of the
nobility could be secured by men of wealth who had no
ancestral claims. This upstart aristocracy was despised
by the ancient noblesse and doubly hated by the toiling
masses. In England the aristocracy was one of the strong-
est bulwarks of the constitution and of the social order:
in France it was a constant source of irritation and disHke
and an invitation to revolution.
Below the privileged classes was the great third estate,

13

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

comprising the merchants, the members of the learned pro-
fessions, multitudes of men of letters, and, of course, all the
peasantry, as well as all the working-classes in the towns.
The members of the third estate were in many cases as
wealthy, as learned, as polished in manners, as the members
of the favored classes, but they were not permitted to
share in the privileges and exemptions reserved by law for
the clergy and the nobility. And as for the peasants and
artisans, they were, in the main, simply ignored, even by
multitudes of those who themselves were counted as be-
longing to the third estate. ^

Upon the poorer classes of France the burdens of exist-
ence pressed heavily. Throughout the country the lot of
the peasantry was pitiful, even though the serfdom of
central and eastern Europe was practically unknown.
Upon them fell the duty of keeping themselves and their
families alive, while at the same time they carried the load
of taxation from which the privileged upper classes were
mainly exempt. With no opportunity for self -improve-
ment they became sodden and hopeless. It is true that
many French peasants, by thrift and incessant toil, had
accumulated considerable wealth, particularly in land, but
they were none the less subjected to trivial yet exasper-
ating annoyances that reminded them of their lack of
legal equality with their titled neighbors, who were some-
times poorer than themselves. The country districts were
shamefully neglected by the government, which drained
them of money and of men and gave little or nothing in
return.

Many of the towns, we may note, were relatively pros-
perous, particularly in the generation just preceding the
Revolution, but the small villages and rural hamlets were
too often wretched collections of filthy hovels occupied by
half -starved peasants, brutalized by want and by excessive
toil.i

How all this affected the tourist is obvious. He found
little to attract him to the country districts, where the
miserable condition of the peasantry made comfort difficult

14

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

to secure, and he moved from town to town with as little
delay as possible along the route. And whether in town or
country he could not help reaHzing that something was out
of joint. Keen observers, like Chesterfield, already foresaw
revolution.

Yet the thirty or forty years before 1789 — the very
years that most concern us — were far more prosperous
than the first half of the century, and had there been a more
efficient administration of government and a more equit-
able'distribution of the burdens of public life, it is possible
that France would have escaped the horrors of the Revo-
lution, as England herself did.

But the average English tourist was no prophet nor a
very competent judge of the significance of what he saw.
With the less attractive sides of French life and official
administration he inevitably came more or less in contact
as he journeyed across country, but, unless he was a trained
observer like Arthur Young, he noted only incidental de-
fects, and those mainly as they affected his personal com-
fort. Of the deep discontent that smouldered in every
part of France he hardly suspected the existence, and he
regarded the schemes for social reform, so popular in the
salons, chiefly as entertaining speculations that must not
be taken too seriously. The gHtter and the gayety of
French society bHnded his eyes. But most of the world
was blind in those days, and he was but a passing stranger.

IV

Of all the countries visited on the grand tour, the con-
dition of Italy was, from many points of view, the least
enviable. Her decline was the favorite topic of eighteenth-
century tourists and poets. There had, indeed, been a sad
falling-off since her days of ancient greatness. In the time
of the Roman Empire Italy had been the recognized leader
of the world, but when the barbarian invasions over-
whelmed the Empire the country became the successive
prey of the strongest. The brilliant period of the Renais-

15

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

sance made Italy for a time the chief center of European
culture and art. But war from without and dissension
from within had long before the eighteenth century im-
poverished the land and left it weak and divided. Says
the historian of Piedmont: "What Italy really attained
during the latter end of the eighteenth century was not
happiness, but cessation from suffering; there was not
actual progress in Italy, but only a stay in her decline." ^
Spain and France and Austria for generations regarded
Italy as a mere pawn upon the chessboard — a mere make-
weight to aid in adjusting the "Balance of Power."

After the middle of the sixteenth century, France in her
own name figured little in Italian affairs in comparison
with Spain, but the so-called Spanish Bourbons, who ruled
a large part of Italy in the eighteenth century, were of
course really French ; and French ideas and French fashions
never ceased to exert a marked influence in the peninsula.
Throughout the seventeenth century the greatest power
in Italy was Spain, which, indeed, maintained peace, but
hampered industry and individual initiative by narrow-
minded and absurd interference. Early in the eighteenth
century, as a result of the war of the Spanish Succession,
Austria forged to the front in Italy and assumed the lead-
ing political r61e.

It is needless to remark that as yet Italian unity was
hardly a dream, and that Italy as such had no voice in the
councils that parceled out her territory among foreign rulers.
This very fact makes difficiilt a clear understanding of
political conditions below the surface in Italy in the eight-
eenth century, since the changes in boundaries and in
masters were made without reference to the desires of the
people and the interests of the country, and hence without
reference to the organic development of the national life.
Whereas in French or English history the sequence of
events can be traced in something like logical order, the
thread of Italian history is so tangled that one has difficulty
in following any line for a great distance. Where unity is
lacking, there can be no strict sequence.

i6

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

Into the details of history we cannot here enter, but we
must glance for a moment at the most important territorial
readjustments that were made in the course of the first
half of the eighteenth century, though we must remember
that it is not easy to make a compact statement covering
all the details.

The one fact of greatest moment is that the Italian penin-
sula, with its population of fourteen millions,^ had no cen-
tral dominating government, but was split up among many
different sovereignties. Between 1700 and 1750 foiur trea-
ties were made which transferred large portions of Italian
territory from one European power to another. The first
treaty was that of Utrecht in 17 13, at the close of the War
of the Spanish Succession. This transferred the Kingdom
of Naples, which had been Spanish since 1504, from Spain
to Austria; Sardinia from Spain to Austria; Sicily from
Spain to Savoy; and the Duchy of Milan from Spain to
Austria, In 1720 a partial readjustment was made by an
agreement between Savoy and Austria to exchange Sicily
and Sardinia. This had for Austria the advantage of giv-
ing her sovereignty over the adjacent regions of Naples and
Sicily. In 1 73 8 the Peace of Vienna brought about extensive
changes. Austria relinquished the Kingdom of Naples and
Sicily and other bits of Italian territory to the Spanish
Bourbons and in her turn received Parma and Piacenza,
whose last Farnese duke had died in 173 1. At the same
time, the Grand Duchy of Tuscany was confirmed to
Francis Stephen, Duke of Lorraine. He had married
Maria Theresa of Austria in 1736; and hence Tuscany be-
came to all intents an Austrian possession. But in 1765
their son Peter Leopold was made Grand Duke of Tuscany,
and he niled here with practical independency of Austria
until his election as Emperor in 1790. As a minor matter
we may add that early in the eighteenth century the
Duchy of Mantua became a dependency of Austria and
was made a part of Austrian Lombardy. Lastly, we note
that, in 1748, at the close of the War of the Austrian Suc-
cession, Parma and Piacenza were given to a Bourbon

17

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

prince, and some portions of the Duchy of Milan were
ceded to the Kingdom of Sardinia.

Besides the states under foreii::n domination there were
others that maintained their independence. The States
of the Church stretched from the RepubHc of Venice to
the Kingdom of Naples and recognized no master but the
Holy Father. The Duchy of Modena had little power, but
it was undisturbed b}' outside aggression. In the midst
of the Papal domain the tiny medieval Republic of San
Marino preserved its liberty in its mountain nest. The
little oligarchy of Lucca kept its autonomy as it had long
done. The two republics of Genoa and Venice had sadly
declined, but in their decrepitude they still cherished their
great past and continued to drag out a sluggish existence.
In the extreme northwest, Savoy and Piedmont had suc-
ceeded for centuries in malcing headway against the powers
that had taken possession of much of the peninsula. When
Sardinia was exchanged for Sicily in 1720, the Kingdom of
Sardinia was founded, and included the island of Sardinia,
the Duchy of Savoy, and the Principality of Piedmont.
Later additions of territory slightly increased the strength
of the kingdom, which was destined in the course of time to
become the dominant power in the Kingdom of Italy and
to bring about the union of all the scattered sovereignties
in the Italian peninsula. The French Revolution, followed
by Bonaparte's invasion in 1796, brought an end to many
of the complicated arrangements here outlined, but wath
the later history we cannot now deal.

In the forty years before the French Revolution Italy
was in the main free from commotions, though neighboring
states had " an aversion for each other . . . often increased
to a marked hatred and contempt. The Genoese, Floren-
tines, Neapolitans, and Romans," we read, "foster so
great an odium against each other as was never manifested
between the English and French." * The rulers of the
separate states were despotic, as was the case all over the
Continent, but some of them made considerable effort to
improve agriculture and industry, particularly in the north-

18

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

em half of the peninsula, and to put the public finances
upon a sounder basis. Notably in Milan and in Tuscany
the incoming of Austrian rule brought a far greater pros-
perity than had been known for generations. But, as a
result of the excessive subdivision of the territory of Italy,
we can easily see that foreign trade and international in-
tercourse of every sort would be greatly hampered by the
ordinary and inevitable eighteenth-century formalities at
the frontiers and at city gates. Moreover, it is obvious
that a country so divided could have no collective national
life or spirit. Throughout the greater part of Italy, par-
ticipation in political life was for most men, of whatever
rank, an impossibility. Practically all that was left was to
take up with some occupation of an obviously harmless
type.

Under the conditions existing everywhere in Italy no
man could take pride in the name of Italian. He might be
a member of an ancient and wealthy family, but, shut out
as he was from an active career and disdaining any useful
occupation, he was likely to become an amateur in art or
music — to spend his days and his nights in dancing at-
tendance upon some woman who could never be his wife,
and to fritter away his energy in inane social follies. Civili-
zation in some parts of Italy, particularly in the southern
half, seems to have been a thin veneer over ill-concealed
barbarism, due to causes of remote origin. Even in the
middle of the nineteenth century, "in Romagna and the
Marches . . . the blood-feud was custom of the country,
greatly enhanced by long years of Papal misrule." ^

Still, in spite of all drawbacks, portions of the northern
half of Italy, particularly Tuscany ^ and Lombardy, were
measurably prosperous. In comparison with these regions
the southern half of the peninsula presented a marked
contrast. Speaking broadly, poverty increased in propor-
tion as one proceeded down through the States of the
Church into the regions of the extreme South. A sober in-
vestigator like Tivaroni says ^ that in the Roman territory
there were no manufactures and no agriculturists. The

19

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

poor of Rome lived upon the fragments that fell from the
tables of fifteen or twenty thousand rich foreigners who
spent the winter there, — upon the cardinals, the Papal
court and the Roman princes.^ Says an English traveler
in 1741: "Viterbo, Montefiascone, Ronciglione, and the
rest of the towns we passed through are all in the same
miserable condition, tho' in a pleasant and fruitful country:
We saw ruinous houses and poor people, with fine churches,
rich clergy, and fat convents." ^ Of Rome itself the same
writer says: "This City, which was once the mistress of
all the riches of the then known world, is now so».poor, that,
to change a pistole in a shop, you must buy half the value
in goods, and take the rest in several bank notes, each of
the value of half a crown sterling." ^ He adds, with some
extravagance, " It is very probable that in a few years both
the town itself and all the neighborhood may be perfectly
void of inhabitants, and, like the former Babylon, only a
haunt of monsters and beasts of prey." ^

In the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, the great minister
Tanucci had brought about notable reforms, but the social
conditions throughout the country districts were substan-
tially those of feudal times. The peasantry were not only
desperately poor, but they were illiterate, superstitious,
hopeless, and such they continued to be throughout the
eighteenth century, and even long after. More than one
fourth of the population were ecclesiastics, who had gath-
ered up a large proportion of the wealth of the country into
their own hands.

Even in the middle of the nineteenth century a brilliant
historian points out in enumerating the reforms that were
urgently needed: "In no country of Europe was this
triple revolution more lamentably overdue than in Naples,
where the tyranny, uncontrolled through long centuries, of
priest, of noble, and latterly of king, had left marks of
devastation not only on the welfare of a few passing genera-
tions, but deep in the national character itself. ..." Re-
ferring to "the hill towns of southern Italy," he continues,
"In those miserable abodes of fear, poverty, and supersti-

20

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

tion, the Dark Ages were prolonged down to the end of the
eighteenth century, and it was there that the character of
the NeapoHtan people was moulded." *

Other features of Italian life will receive attention in the
proper place, but this rapid sketch is sufficient to make
clear the general condition of the country that the tourist
had to traverse.

V

Very different from France, and yet in all ranks of polite
society the persistent imitator of everything French, was
Germany. The well-informed man of to-day naturally
thinks of Germany as the greatest military power in the
world, as the home of the most advanced scholarship, and
as the formidable commercial rival of England. Far lower
in the eighteenth century was the international reputation
of Germany. All through the period we are examining,
Germany was not a compact nation, but a bewildering con-
geries of disunited kingdoms and electorates and princi-
palities and free cities, with one portion — the Electorate
of Brandenburg — gradually rising to preeminence as the
new Kingdom of Prussia.

There is, indeed, no more confused and complicated
history when taken in detail than that of Germany, for
where there is no unity there can be no clearly defined
policy and no general continuity of growth. With the
historical development of Germany we cannot here deal.
We have rather to endeavor to form some conception of
what was connoted by the term "Germany" in the eight-
eenth century and to indicate the type of civilization it
presented.

In the Middle Ages, Germany held a commanding posi-
tion among the nations of Europe, with wealthy cities like
Lubeck and Hamburg and Cologne and Nuremberg and
Augsburg and Frankfort and Mainz and Strassburg and
Breslau. But Germany at the beginning of the eighteenth
century had long been declining. The Reformation and
the animosities it engendered rent the Empire in twain

21

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

and left a heritage of strife that made Germany a battle-
field for a generation. Since the Middle Ages no greater
calamity fell upon any European nation than came to
Germany with the Thirty Years* War. The ruin of great
and flourishing cities, the destruction of ancient festivals
and quaint customs, the brutalizing of the rural population
throughout a generation of strife, all this left its mark
upon the Germany that travelers visited in the eighteenth
century.

Following the Thirty Years' War came the ravaging of
the Palatinate in 1688, the War of the Spanish Succes-
sion, and the Seven Years' War. In these wars much of
the earlier brutality continued. Prosperous and beautiful
German cities were laid in ashes and countless villages
made uninhabitable.

Already in the seventeenth century progress was sadly
arrested. Public spirit and public opinion almost died
out. Bureaucrats and pedants held full sway. It was the
day of small men and small things. Great centers of
present-day industry, like Solingen, Essen, Krefeld, Elber-
feld. Barmen, were in the seventeenth and eighteenth cen-
turies too insignificant to deserve mention.

Even late in the eighteenth century a semi-medieval
character pervaded the atmosphere of Germany. The
nobles, particularly in the Rhine districts, were too poor
to keep up their ancient splendor, but they cherished all
their surviving privileges and looked with contempt upon
the peasantry. Throughout the Empire the laboring classes
were in a far worse condition than in France. "The dwell-
ers on the estates of the Prussian nobility in Silesia and
Bra,ndenburg were treated no better than negro slaves in
America and the West Indies. They were not allowed to
leave their villages, or to marry without their lords' con-
sent; their children had to serve in the lords' families for
several years at a nominal wage, and they themselves had
to labour at least three days, and often six days, a week
on their lords' estate. These corvees or forced labours
occupied so much of the peasant's time that he could only

22

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

cultivate his own farm by moonlight. This state of abso-
lute serfdom was general in Central and Eastern Europe,
in the greater part of Germany, in Poland and in Russia,
and where it existed the artisan class was equally depressed,
for no man was allowed to learn a trade without his lord's
permission, and an escaped serf had no chance of admission
into the trade-guilds of the cities. Towards the west a
more advanced civilization improved the condition of the
labourers; the Italian peasant and the German peasant on
the Rhine had obtained freedom to marry without his lord's
interference; but, nevertheless, it was a prince of western
Germany, the Landgrave of Hcsse-Cassel, who sold his
subjects to England to serve as mercenaries in the American
War of Independence. In France the peasant was far
better off." i

Besides all this, there was everywhere prevalent in Ger-
many a narrow spirit of particularism, an inability to see
the world from any other point of view than that of one's
own limited district. Taken as a whole, Germany was inert
and unprogressive, feudal in spirit and practice, and every-
where divided against itself. Even where neighboring states
lived peaceably side by side, as for the most part they did,
there was marked lack of interest in one another's welfare,
and a lack of concerted effort toward a common end.

And this contracted, illiberal spirit is precisely what
might have been expected from the rulers and the subjects
of the petty states that constituted the moribund German
Empire. Already, before the dawn of the eighteenth cen-
tury, the Empire, with its ten circles, — including some
three hundred separate states, of which fifty-one were free
cities, — was little more than a name. "Properly, indeed,
it was no longer an Empire at all, but a Confederation, and
that of the lowest sort. For it had no common treasury,
inefficient common tribunals, no means of coercing a re-
fractory member; its states were of different religions,
were governed according to different forms, were adminis-
tered judicially and financially without any regard to each
other." 2

23

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

Since the Thirty Years' War the Empire had so lost all
directive power that it left the rulers of diminutive states
to govern unchecked by imperial restraint. These minor
despots were in some cases well disposed and capable, but
too often they were destitute of German spirit and were
chiefly bent upon maldng their courts tawdry copies of the
splendors of Versailles.

Out of this crowd of feeble little states, long overshadowed
by the great House of Hapsburg, Prussia emerged in the
eighteenth century, and from being merely the Electorate
of Brandenburg became the powerful Kingdom of Pn;ssia.
But although the genius of Frederick the Great had won
for Prussia a foremost place in Europe, Germany as a
whole counted for little beside France and England. The
greatest rival of Prussia was Austria. For generations the
House of Hapsburg, while ruling Austria, had at the same
time stood at the head of the German Empire. For a brief
interval (1742-45) the Elector of Bavaria had held the
dignity of Emperor, but at his death it was immediately
given to Francis I, the husband of Maria Theresa, and after
him to Joseph II. With the enfeebled German Empire,
however, we need not longer concern ourselves, for its
days of usefulness were past and its end was near. But the
Austrian monarchy had a vigorous though troubled life,
and ranked as one of the greatest powers of the eighteenth
century. In the course of the eighteenth century Austria
lost and gained territory, but she gained more than she
lost. In 1772, Austria shared with Russia and Prussia in
the dismemberment of Poland. In Italy Austria held the
Duchies of Milan and Mantua and the Principality of
Castiglione; and a member of the Lorraine branch of the
House of Austria was the ruler of Tuscany. In the Low
Countries the Catholic provinces — substantially the mod-
em Belgium, — were under Austrian sovereignty.

Beyond question these were great and important posses-
sions. But the most marked characteristic of Austria as
contrasted with France was that it was not a compact and
homogeneous country inhabited by a people speaking the

24

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

same language. France, indeed, harbored in Brittany a
picturesque race that cherished its ancient speech and tra-
ditions, but the Bretons were among the most loyal sup-
porters of the throne. Austria, on the other hand, con-
sisted of a group of provinces with little in common except
dependence upon the ruling Hapsburg monarch. The
dominant German clement cherished ideals very different
from those of the Magyars, the Slavonians, the Ruman-
ians, the Italians, who were continually struggling to ad-
vance their own interests. Various languages, various
political institutions, various customs, various religions,
made real unity impossible and engendered constant
jealousies and sometimes open strife. So slight was
the bond uniting the Austrian provinces that, as is
still the case, the personal qualities of the ruler were
of great importance in holding together the disparate
elements.

It is to be noted, too, that far more than in France and
the Rhine region of Germany had the spirit of medievalism
survived in Austria. The aristocracy still enjoyed many
odious class privileges and raised their heads high above the
miserable common people. The peasants were bound to
the soil and forced to labor for the aristocratic landowners
as a compensation for the privilege of being allowed to
exist. They were not even free to marry without the
approval of their masters. In Hungary, in Bohemia, in
Silesia, in Moravia there was, throughout the eighteenth
century, a growing discontent and a more insistent longing
for a diminution of the heavy feudal burdens.

Maria Theresa, and far more in his turn the restless
Joseph II, had to some extent succeeded in carrying through
the most pressing social reforms, such, for example, as the
abolition of serfdom, and the imposition of taxes upon the
nobles. The zeal of Joseph II would have forced a host of
sweeping changes upon his people, but he could not over-
come the inertia of centuries, and at length, prematurely
worn out and bitterly disappointed by his many failures,
he died in 1790.

25

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

Everything considered, Austria in the eighteenth century
was in a very backward state. Education was sadly neg-
lected. Illiteracy was general among the lower classes.
Manners were brutal. Immorality was rife in all ranks of
society. Free-thinking was popular in the upper classes and
superstition pervaded the untutored peasantry. For the
tourist there was in Austria little that was attractive out-
side the cities. These were united by an extensive system
of roads, which, on the great lines of travel, were main-
tained by the centralized government in condition far
better than was the case in the petty states of what^we
now call Germany.

VI

Upon the other portions of Europe we need not long de-
lay. Switzerland, securely placed in the center of the Con-
tinent, took no recognized part in the affairs of Europe,
and was permitted to work out its destiny undisturbed.
Great wealth was unknown, and simplicity of living was
the rule. Some of the mountain districts afforded a very
scanty subsistence, but the country as a whole was reason-
ably well-to-do and contented, and some cities, such as Basel
and Geneva, enjoyed remarkable prosperity.

In the northwest comer of the Continent were situated
the Low Countries — the seven Dutch provinces that we
collectively call Holland, from the name of the most im-
portant, and the Austrian Netherlands. The story of the
rise of the Dutch' RepubHc is one of the marvels of the
history of Europe. Throughout the seventeenth century
the little republic was extraordinarily prosperous, and her
merchant vessels brought her untold wealth from every
part of the world. Despite her diminutive size she stood
up against the aggressive policy of France, for a moment
humiliated England, and took an active part in the War
of the Spanish Succession. The long strain of this and
previous wars was, however, too severe, and except for
the War of the Austrian Succession (1740-48) and the brief
but unfortunate naval war with England just at the close

26

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

of the American Revolution, the Dutch Republic as a
political power played throughout the eighteenth century-
little or no part in shaping the destiny of Europe. But
her merchants and her bankers, her florists, and her sea-
men made her everywhere respected for her wealth and
her trade. Dutch comfort and Dutch cleanliness were
proverbial. Dutch freedom was the envy of the down-
trodden in every part of Europe.

Between Holland and France were the Catholic Low
Countries, which we know as Belgium. These provinces
had long been under Spanish rule, but at the close of the
War of the Spanish Succession they had fallen to Austria.
They were governed by an Austrian viceroy and, particu-
larly during the reign of Maria Theresa, enjoyed a measure
of prosperity. But the grasping policy of Holland and of
England blocked the navigation of the Scheldt and pre-
vented commercial expansion. From the signing of the
Treaty of Utrecht to the French Revolution Holland over-
shadowed the Austrian Netherlands and prevented them
from seriously rivaling her commercial supremacy.

We have now completed our survey of the portions of
Europe that particularly concern us. With Denmark and
Norway and Sweden and Russia and Poland and Turkey
and Greece the majority of tourists had little to do, and
our plan does not permit us to follow the steps of the occa-
sional travelers. To Spain we must, however, give a word.
In the eighteenth century Spain was in full decadence.
An intolerant religious policy had rooted out and banished
the most prosperous elements in the population of Spain.
Vast wealth was in the hands of the Church, but poverty
and superstition pervaded the country. Travel was at-
tended with great discomfort. Roads were few and in
bad repair. Inns throughout the country were of the most
primitive character. Spanish misgovemment, moreover,
had left its mark on more than one part of Europe. Span-
ish princes still held portions of Italy, and Spanish posses-
sions were scattered all over the world; but the energy

27

BEFORE THE FRENCH REVOLUTION

that had marked Spanish administration in the sixteenth
century had given place to pretentious weakness; and to
the increase of the power of Spain in any part of the world
England in the eighteenth century was sternly opposed,
as she had been in the days of the Invincible Armada.

With Portugal, on the other hand, the relations of Eng-
land were intimate and amicable. A good part of the coun-
try was dominated by English capital, and the commerce
of her greatest ports was wholly in the hands of the Eng-
lish. The very food and clothing of the people came in large
measure from England and in English bottoms ; on the otjier
hand, the wine imported from Lisbon and Oporto into
England, on the easy terms of the Methuen Treaty, and
freely consumed in every well-to-do English household,
made gout a disease almost inevitable to an Englishman of
recognized social position.

In a country like Portugal, where English interests were
paramount, there were naturally a good many represen-
tatives of English families not actively engaged in trade,
but attracted by the genial climate and the beauty of the
country. The lack of roads and accommodations for tour-
ists compelled strangers for the most part, however, to
sojourn in one of the coast towns, such as Oporto, Lisbon,
Cintra. since touring in the interior for mere pleasure was
hardly practicable. At all events, a voyage to Portugal
was not counted as an essential part of the conventional
grand tour, but rather as an interesting excursion for one
who sought a change of scene and air.

28

CHAPTER III

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL
I

The English Channel

The real troubles of the tourist began with the crossing
of the English Channel.* Even now, in luxurious steamers
that make the run in less than an hour, the experience is
for many no unmixed delight. But a century and a half
ago, when the vessels were small, dirty, and ill-appointed,
the passage was a torment, and, if strong head-winds blew,
impossible. Some travelers went all the way by water from
London to the Continent. "Upon Change every day is to
be met with the master of a French trader; whose price to
Calais, Dunkirk, or Boulogne is only a guinea each pas-
senger : the passage is commonly made in sixteen or twenty
hours : this scheme is much more commendable than going
to Dover; where, should you chance to be wind-bound, it
will cost you at least half a guinea a day." ^

Several routes were open to the traveler from England
to the Continent. He might go from Harwich to the Bricl
in Holland by packet boat,^ from Yarmouth to Cuxhaven,
from London to Hamburg, from Brighton to Dieppe, from
Dover to Calais or Boulogne, and so on. By landing at
Boulogne one saved some miles of travel by coach on the
way to Paris. A sailing vessel left London every week
for Amsterdam, from which place there was also a return
service.''

But the ordinary route to the Continent by way of Dover
and Calais was the shortest and most popular. Yet, if we
may trust the genial Smollett, the trip by coach to Dover
was not entirely agreeable, though possibly not much worse
than the trip to other seaports. "I need not tell you this

29

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

is the worst road in England, witli respect to the conven-
iences of travelling, and must certainly impress foreigners
with an unfavorable opinion of the nation in general. The
chambers are in general cold and comfortless, the beds
paultry, the cookery execrable, the wine poison, the at-
tendance bad, the publicans insolent, and the bills extor-
tion; ^ there is not a drop of tolerable malt liquor to be
had from London to Dover." ^

When the winds permitted, regular packet boats carrying
mail and passengers left Dover for Calais on Tuesdays and
Fridays of every week, and Calais for Dover on Wednesdays
and Saturdays.' Besides these there were three or four
barques belonging to private owners in Dover or Calais
in which passage, including transportation of luggage, could
be had for ten or twelve livres a person.* The exclusive use
of a small vessel cost about five guineas.^

Before the introduction of steam vessels travelers were
entirely at the mercy of the winds, and might be delayed
on land for many days. In the sixteenth century, says
Bates, "a forty-eight hour passage was nothing to grumble
at." ^ Coryate, on his famous journey, went from Dover
to Calais in ten hours. His characteristic description would
apply in some particulars to a crossing even in our day.
"I arrived," says he, "about five of the clocke in the after-
noone, after I had varnished the exterior parts of the
ship with the excrementall ebullitions of my tumultuous
stomach, as desiring to satiate the gormandizing paunches
of the hungry Haddocks . . . with that wherewith I
had superfluously stuffed my selfe at land, having made
my rumbling belly their capacious aumbrie." '

In the eighteenth century five hours or more was an or-
dinary allowance for a crossing in a fair wind,^ though the
run was often made in three hours, or even less.^ In 1754,
the Earl of Cork and Orrery crossed from Dover to Calais
in three hours and ten minutes.^" In 1772, Dr. Charles
Burney spent nine days at Calais in waiting for weather
that would permit him to cross the Channel. When he
finally arrived at London he suffered a severe attack of

30

A FRENCH PORT

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

II

"trance

In more than one country of Europe travel by water was
the cheapest and easiest way to get about. Wherever pos-
sible, the rivers were utilized for transportation, and where
there were none, canals often supplied the lack. The
chief means of travel in France was of course some form of
wheeled carriage. But the tourist had more than one
opportunity to vary his journey by resorting to water
transportation. From Paris he could take at eight in the
morning the clumsy coche d'eau or galliot from the Pont-
Royal down the Seine to Sevres or Saint-Cloud.^ He
might even make his entrance to the capital by boat.
Says Northleigh, "The barge which carries you from Foun-
tainbleau down the river to Paris, being drawn by three or
four horses, runs in ten or twelve hours, sixteen of their
leagues, or about forty-eight English miles." ^ For going
from Rouen to Paris by boat one allowed thirty-six hours. ^

If the tourist happened to be at Toulouse, he could go to
the Mediterranean by the Languedoc Canal, nearly one
hundred and fifty miles long, the greatest work of the sort
in Europe.^ Besides the river Seine, the Loire, the Gironde,
and other smaller streams each in their measure enabled
tourists, as well as natives, to get from place to place with
reasonable comfort and tolerable expedition. But the
most famous water journey in France, and one that the
traveler to Italy almost invariably took, was the trip down
the Rhone. He might even take a "water carriage" from
Paris to Lyons, paying thirty-five livres for his passage,
and spending ten days upon the way.^ He then embarked
at Lyons in the coche d'eau and ghding "down the river
with great velocity" arrived with little trouble or expense
at Marseilles. For dinners and suppers he resorted to the
ordinaries in the towns and villages on each side of the
river. His chief anxiety was to get safely past the dan-
gerous Pont Saint-Esprit, where more than one vessel was

32

THE GRAND TOURNAMENT OF THE BOATMEN OF
' PARIS IN 1 75 1, BETWEEN PONT-AU-CHANGE AND
PONT NOTRE-DAME

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

embarked with the courier for Genoa. We paid a zcchin '
each for our passage; and paid for our baggage besides.
They rowed all night; and, at ten in the morning, we ar-
rived at the city of Genoa," ^ twenty leagues from Lcrici.
Thence he continued to Villafranca "in a small boat with
oars and sails." '

The coasting trip was not always so easily accomplished.
Wright wished to go from Marseilles to Leghorn, and this
was his experience: "After having been detained at Mar-
seilles a fortnight by contrary winds ... I went on
board a bark bound for Leghorn: we met with very bad
weather; after six days labouring with wind and sea . . .
we were glad at last to get ashore at St. Remo." *

The other most popular coasting trip was the run from
Rome to Naples, which was inexpensive, and even in bad
weather enabled the traveler to exchange one sort of dis-
comfort for another.'' "By water the passage is very pleas-
ant in summer; this is generally perfonned in a felucca or
small boat, which you hire at Rome or Ostia for eight pis-
toles, and keeping close to the shore, in order to have shelter
in case of bad weather, you arrive at Naples in four and
twenty hours, or at furthest in two days and two nights
with a fair wind. Those who do not choose to hire a boat
to themselves pay two crowns for their passage and four
or five crowns for passage and board." '

One objection to travel on the Mediterranean was the
danger, not wholly imaginary, of capture by Barbary
pirates, who might be found lurldng in some sheltered bay
awaiting an opportunity to pounce upon an unprotected
vessel.'

Once in the country the tourist in Italy found his chief
opportunity for water travel in the great plain between
the Apennines and the Alps. Here, where the roads were
none too good, the tourist often saved trouble and expense
by taking a water route. This was, indeed, the favorite
way of going from Ferrara to Venice. Between Ferrara and
Bologna one could go by post-route or by canal. ^ Ray,
who made the journey in the seventeenth century, de-

34

THE WATER JOURNEY FROM PADUA TO VENICE —
THE REMULCIO TOWING THE BURCELLO

^f- 1 (>

I

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

scribes the journey to Venice in detail: "Taking the Flor-
entine Procaccio's boat to Venice, we passed through nine
sostegni or locks to Mai Albergo, where we shifted our
boat, going from a higher to a lower channel, which brought
us to Ferrara, forty-five miles distant from Bologna. From
Ferrara we were tow'd by a horse through an artificial chan-
nel as far as Ponte, where ent'ring the river Po, we chang'd
our boat again and were row'd down the stream twenty-
seven miles to Corbola, where ent'ring the Venetian terri-
tories we were obliged once more to change in order to take
a Venetian boat." ^

James Edward Smith, who traveled in the same region
more than a century later, found the accommodations on
this route still sufficiently primitive: "This evening (May
8), about ten o'clock, we went on board the boat of the
courier for Venice, paying thirty pauls each, not quite
fifteen shillings, to be landed there free of all other ex-
pense, and fed by the way. . . . After a confused kind of
supper which our good captain endeavoured to make as
comfortable as possible, an arrangement of mattresses took
place . . . and the company were laid, or rather piled
upon them, over chests, bales, and everything that could
be thought of." ^

Mariana Starke at the end of the eighteenth century
went from Ferrara to Mestre by carriage and by gondola to
Venice. But she recommends invalids "to embark at
Francolino, which is five miles from Ferrara, and go all
the way to Venice by water, a voyage of eighty miles up
the Po, the Adige, the Brenta, and the Lagoons, which is
usually performed in about twenty hours. Carriages,
however, must at all events go over land ; but, as the road
is extremely bad, they go best empty." ^

One water journey was celebrated, and that was the
passage of the Brenta in going from Padua to Venice, a
distance of about twenty-five miles. On both sides of the
stream rose the palaces of the Venetian nobility, "built
with so great a variety of architecture that there is not one
of them like another." * Of the richness and beauty of these

35

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

palatial villas and their grounds tourists could not say
enough,^ for the eighteenth-century traveler was a devoted
admirer of closely kept hedges and formal gardens laid out
in geometrical lines. One sensible Englishman, however,
at the opening of the nineteenth century considerably
modified the enthusiastic etilogies of his predecessors.
"These banks," says he, "have without a doubt a rich, a
lively, and sometimes a splendid appearance; but their
splendour and beauty have been much exaggerated, or are
much faded; and an Englishman accustomed to the
Thames, and to the villas which grace its banks, will •dis-
cover little to excite his admiration, as he descends the
canal of the Brenta." ^

The ordinary traveler made the trip on the Brenta in
about eight hours ^ in a burchio or hurcello, which with its
mirrors and carpets and glass doors was a sufficiently luxu-
rious conveyance. "The Burcello is a large handsome
boat; the middle part of which is a pretty room, generally
adorn'd with carving, gilding, and painting. 'T is drawn
down the Brenta with one horse to Fusino, the entrance
into the Lagune; and from thence to Venice 'tis hawl'd
along by another boat, which they call a Remulcio, with
four or six rowers." *

Exclusive travelers "of a certain rank" hired a boat for
their own use. This would commonly hold twenty persons
or more and "with every expense included" cost "an
English company about thirty-five shillings." ^

Besides these considerable journeys on the water there
was frequent occasion to cross streams, small or large, and
the lack of bridges necessitated fording or the use of ferries.
The fording of small watercourses was so common in hilly
districts as ordinarily to excite no comment, but the trav-
eler occasionally jotted in his notebook a comment on the
gullying of mountain roads after heavy rains and the
flooding of the lowlands in the spring. A river fed by gla-
ciers might always be expected to give the traveler some
difficiilty. The following was an ordinary incident of travel :
"After a slight examination at St. Laurent, the last town

36

A FERRY ON THE PO

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

in France, we forded the river Var, with the help of some
guides, and entered the king of Sardinia's dominions." On
account of the depth of the river, which is full of shifting
holes, "the guides are therefore obHged to wade naked up
to their waists on each side of the carriage, feeling their
way with poles. If any person be lost, the guides are
hanged without mercy; yet their pay, as fixed by govern-
ment, is very low, three-pence for each passage. All trav-
ellers, who have the least spark of generosity, give them
much more." ^

Ferries 2 in some districts were a perpetual annoyance.
Tourists often complained of being entrapped into a bargain
for transportation that did not include the ferry charges,
which were easily made greater for strangers ignorant of
the usual rates.^ De Drosses found the numerous ferries
between Bologna and Venice very expensive and particu-
larly annoying because of the delay they occasioned. ^

As elsewhere observed, eighteenth-century tourists ap-
pear hardly to have discovered the Italian lakes, or at all
events to have made little effort to see them. The cele-
brated Borromean Isles in Lake Maggiore drew admiring
travelers, but the lakes in general were regarded merely as
an easy means of transportation.

IV

Germany

In Germany there were three chief rivers of service to
the tourist, —the Rhine, the Danube, and the Elbe. In the
eighteenth century, as indeed for centuries before, the Rhine
offered the most convenient route between the north and
the south of Germany. So indispensable was it that from
ancient days the authorities on both sides of the river ex-
acted high tolls from all boatmen for the privilege of pass-
ing.6 Before the eighteenth century the boatmen in their
turn exacted labor from their passengers. Cory ate tells
us that even those who had paid their passage were com-

37

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

pelled to take their turn at the oar. On arriving at Obcr-
winter, says he, "We solaced ourselves, after our tedious
labour of rowing, as merrily as we could." * This excellent
form of exercise gradually ceased to be compulsory. For
ascending the river horses were employed, as indeed they
had been in Coryate's day. Cogan gives a view of Bonn
with a vessel of two or three hundred tons drawn by three
horses in single file going up the Rhine. ^ For larger craft,
when heavily loaded, the number of horses was increased
to ten or even twenty.^ In shallow places such vessels had
to use lighters. Says Cogan,'^ "When the water is low and
the wind is against them, they are some months in making
their passage."

With such cargo-boats the ordinary tourist * had little
to do, for he could find ample accommodation in vessels
designed expressly for passenger traffic. "These are of
various sizes, according to the number of passengers to be
accommodated. Those most commonly in use have an
oblong cabin built in the centre, that will contain tenor
twelve persons very commodiously ; between this and the
helm are benches with a canvas stretched upon hoops by
way of canopy, which forms a second compartment for a
lower class of passengers. The boatman is attended with
one or two servants. The passage is just as you make
your agreement. . . . We hired our boat for thirteen shil-
lings English, giving the man, however, permission to take
in two or three other passengers that wished to go with
him." 6

The swift current of the Rhine so aided the descent that
the charge for going from Mainz to Cologne was much less
than for going from Cologne to Mainz. Multitudes of
craft simply floated downstream, aided a little, perhaps,
by a sail and kept by the rudder or an occasional dip of
the great sweeps from striking the shore or some other
obstruction.

Transport on the Danube or the Elbe was much the same
as on the Rhine, except that not infrequently the accommo-
dations were more primitive. One traveler who went down

38

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

the Danube in 1792 recorded in his journal, "The seventh
day of my being immured in a sty." ' Travelers in general
complain that the boats are small and dirty and over-
crowded. Yet even at worst the boats were hardly in-
ferior to the conveyances on land. The luxurious Lady
Mary Montagu, who in 17 16 descended the Danube from
Rcgcnsburg to Vienna, found the "journey perfectly agree-
able." She went "in one of those little vessels, that they
very properly call wooden houses, having in them all the
conveniences of a palace, stoves in the chambers, kitchens,
etc. They are rowed by twelve men each, and move with
such incredible swiftness, that in the same day you have
the pleasure of a vast variety of prospects." ^ She obvi-
ously had a boat of the highest type.

In 1798, Mariana Starke found very good accommoda-
tions in going from Dresden to Hamburg by the Elbe.
"Hearing that the road was execrably bad, and that the
inns were very indifferent, we determined to dismiss our
mules, and go by water, in an excellent boat, with three
cabins, four beds, a place behind for men-servants, and
another before for baggage." The voyage, says she, is
"usually accomplished in less than a week; even though
you cast anchor for a few hours every night, in order to
avoid the noise which the Boatmen constantly make while
going on." 3

The trip down the Elbe from Hamburg to Cuxhavcn, in
boats containing beds for five or six persons and a fireplace
for cooking, took eighteen hours for about sixty miles.
For the boat and the three watermen the charge was sev-
enty marks. Four marks were added as a gratuity. The
passengers found provisions for themselves, but not for
the watermen.''

V

Holland and Belgium

In the eighteenth century, as in our day, the Low
Countries were a network of waterways, artificial and

39

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

natural. The service had been highly organized for genera-
tions, and guide-books published elaborate "Directions to
know at what times the post-waggons, draw-boats, passage-
vessels, or sailing-boats, and market-boats, set out from
Amsterdam to the principal towns in the Low Countries,
according to their alphabetical order." ' Nugent's ac-
count, which follows, enables us to see precisely what we
should have had to do : —

"The usual way of travelling in Holland, and most parts
of the United Provinces as well as in a great many prov-
inces of the Austrian and French Netherlands, is in Treck-
scoots, or Draw-boats, which are large covered boats not
unlike the barges of the livery companies of London, drawn
by a horse at the rate of three miles an hour; the fare of
which does not amount to a penny a mile ; and you have
the conveniency of carrying a portmanteau, or provisions;
so that you need not be at any manner of expence at a
public house by the way. The rate of places in these boats,
as also in their post-waggons, is fixed; therefore there is no
occasion for contending about the price. The carriage of
one's baggage must be paid apart, for which there docs not
seem to be any settled price, but is left to the discretion
of the skipper or boatman, who judges generally according
as his thick scull and avaricious heart directs him ; for which
reason you must agree upon a price for the carriage of your
goods before you put them in, or you will be obliged to give
him whatever he pleases to ask. . . .

"There is scarce a town in Holland but one may travel
to in this manner every day; and if it be a considerable
place, almost every hour, at the ringing of a bell; but they
will not stay a moment afterwards for a passenger, tho'
they see him coming." ^

Another account of the canal boats by a contemporary
writer completes the picture, with very little repetition : —

"These passage-boats, or treck schuyts, as they are called
in the language of the country, go at the rate of four miles
an hour, stopping only about half a quarter of an hour at
certain villages, to give the passenger an opportunity of

40

ON A DUTCH CANAL IN WINTER

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

stretching himself, and taking a little refreshment in the
inns. The fare is about three farthings a mile. . . .

"The boat is drawn by a horse, and contains about
twenty or five and twenty passengers. It is very clean,
with a deck over it which covers them from rain, etc., so
that they are as much at ease as in their own houses. They
talk, read, sew, knit, as each likes best; and do not know
they are going by water, except they look out, and see
they are moving, the motion is so insensible. . . . The
boat has windows on the sides to let in the air ; from which
also the passengers may see the country as they travel.
The boat goes off every hour of the day, on the ringing of
a little bell; ^ so that one knows to a minute when he is
to set out, and to a few minutes, when he shall arrive at
his journey's end. Strangers are equally surprised and
charmed with this way of travelling, as it is indeed far
the most commodious, best regulated, and cheapest in
Europe." ^

To a modern reader the speed does not seem excessive,^
but the boats compared favorably even in speed with the
ordinary wheeled conveyances in many parts of Europe.
In other particulars the comfort of the boats was incom-
parably greater than that of the post-wagon or the coach.
Travelers grow enthusiastic over the delights of water
travel in Holland and Flanders and declare that "the
convenience and pleasure of it can hardly be conceived
from description." * Misson, about a century earlier, had
remarked on these boats: "You are seated as quietly in
them as if you were at home, and sheltered both from rain
and wind : so that you may go from one country to another,
almost without perceiving that you are out of the house." ^

One treck-scoot in particular, plying daily between Ghent
and Bruges through a canal thirty miles long, was called
"the most remarkable boat of the kind in all Europe; for
it is a perfect tavern divided into several appartments,
with a very good ordinary at dinner of six or seven dishes,
and all sorts of wines at moderate prices. In winter they
have fires in their chimneys, and the motion of the vessel

41

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY WATER TRAVEL

is so gentle that a person is all the way as if he were in a
house." ^

Even minor towns were well served. Note a single in-
stance: "The boat that passes between Brussels and Ville-
brocck is extremely commodious: the passengers may be
accommodated with meat and drink." ^

For going from Amsterdam to Antwerp and Brussels
three or four gentlemen accompanied by ladies might hire
a yacht at Rotterdam for from seven to ten guilders a^ay
and see the country with entire independence. They could
take servants with them to cook their food and look after
the baggage; they could sleep in good beds on the boat,
and be more comfortable than at an inn. "If they have a
mind, they may stop by the way to see Dort or Bergen-op-
Zoom, or some of the towns of Zealand." ' The chief in-
convenience from this sort of travel arose in hot weather,
when the nearly stagnant water in the canals became cov-
ered with green scum and exhaled a noisome stench.

42

CHAPTER IV

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROADS

The modern tourist who bowls along in his private
motor-car over highways smooth as a floor through almost
every part of Europe, or the sight-seer of modest means
who employs the more plebeian means of transport, can
little appreciate what land travel meant a century and a
half ago. The Romans, with their keen practical sense and
unsurpassed administrative ability, had constructed a won-
derful system of paved roads radiating from the capital to
all parts of the Empire.^ It is not too much to say that in
the time of the Roman Empire one could travel with more
expedition and less discomfort than was the case, in the
eighteenth century, throughout the greater part of Europe.
With the overthrow of the imperial power the old Roman
roads had fallen into decay. What had once been un-
broken lines of easy communication ^ between the capital
and the remotest provincial towns had often become rude
and almost undistinguishable paths. Except in portions
of France and of the Low Countries, the roads through-
out most of Europe in the eighteenth century were a
disgrace to civilized countries. One might reasonably ex-
pect that where the highways were the chief, and in many
cases the only, means of communication, they would be
brought to the highest perfection, but such was by no
means the rule. Even in England, which was not lacking
in wealth and some degree of splendor, the roads in the
seventeenth century presented almost insuperable difficul-
ties, which Macaulay depicts with his usual vigor. ^ In the
eighteenth century the overturning or miring of a coach in
the immediate neighborhood of London was one of the

43

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROADS

commonest of incidents.^ In wet weather there was in
London a veritable slough between Kensington Palace and
St. James's Palace.

II

France

The roads of France are generally praised by eighteenth-
century travelers.^ It is, moreover, unquestionably true
that on the whole no part of Europe in the last quarter of
the century, except some portions of the Low Countries,
had roads so good as France,^ but in the seventeenth cen-
tury even the French roads left much to be desired, and
in some cases they could hardly have failed to improve if
they had remained passable at all. When Lippomano was
in France in the sixteenth century he found the roads
frightfully miry. Only the highway from Paris to Or-
leans was paved. In Poitou he could make but four
leagues a day.^ As late as the middle of the seventeenth
century the roads were often ill-defined and passed through
fords so deep as to let the water into the carriage through
the sides.^ Before 1700, and in many regions after that
date, travel at night was deemed inadvisable.® Not until
the reign of Louis XVI had the corvees so improved the
highways that diligences ventured on the roads after dark.'
More than one of the roads remained bad to a late date.
The keen-eyed Abbd Barth^lemy went to Italy in 1755,
and he remarks: ^ "Some of our journeys have been very
tiresome. The one from Auxerre to Dijon, which is two
and thirty leagues, was most intolerable. The road passes
through a very fine country, but in itself it is the worst I
have ever seen."

The well-known traveler Breval had trouble in reaching
Auxerre from the other side: "Auxerre made us some
Amends for three Days very dismally spent in getting
thither from Gien, thro' a barren ill-peopled Country, and
impassable almost for Wheel-Carriages." ® The distance
in our time by railway is only fifty-seven miles.

44

I

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROADS

Foreign tourists had little occasion to traverse the ex-
treme west of France, — Brittany and La Vendee, — but
there, too, the condition of the roads was extremely primi-
tive. John Carr in going back to England from his tour
in France passed through Caen in Normandy. "After we
left Caen," says he, "the roads became very bad. Our
ponderous machine [diligence] frequently rolled from one
side to the other, and with many alarming crackings,
threatened us with a heavy and perilous overthrow." ^

Many highways, especially in the remoter provinces,
were without question sadly out of repair. But notwith-
standing bad roads, such as one too often finds in America
to-day, the quality of the French roads in general was
excellent. The chief alleged defect was the heavy pave-
ment,^ which ill-adapted them for the passage of light
carriages.^ The anonymous author of "A View of Paris"
(1701), though fond of satirical comment, says neverthe-
less of the road from Paris to Versailles that it "is pav'd
exceeding even, as indeed are most roads in France. ' ' ^ Lady
Mary Montagu was not given to overpraise, but in 1739
she writes: "France is so much improved, it would not be
known to be the same country we passed through, twenty
years ago . . . the roads are all mended, and the greater
part of them paved as well as the streets of Paris, planted
on both sides like the roads in Holland; and such good
care taken against robbers, that you may cross the country
with your purse in your hand." ^

The road between Calais and Saint-Omer, says Jones,^
"seems equal to any of the best turnpike roads we have in
England," being about forty feet wide and planted with
willows, poplars, and elms. So good was the road between
Mons and Paris that the masters of the diligences assured
their patrons that on the third day after leaving Brussels
one could dine at Paris.'' And Dr. Rigby says, in 1789:
"We were told to expect nothing but rough paved roads.
They are paved in some places, but in others as good as
English roads." ^

45

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROADS

III

Italy

We occasionally detect in the tourist in Italy an apparent
lack of interest in notable places only a short distance off
the beaten track. As a partial explanation we must ob-
serve that large districts in Italy had either no roads at all
or at best mere tracks that in wet weather were sloughs
and in dry weather were troughs of dust. The best roads
were bad enough. In Piedmont, says Tivaroni/ "travel
was difficult for all. On going out from many towns and
from many villages one was compelled to proceed on foot
or to ride on asses, mules, or horses along narrow roads that
were in wretched repair or crossed by streams of water
lacking bridges. . . . The bad state of the roads was and
remained one of the greatest obstacles to the progress of
internal commerce, the maintenance of the thoroughfares
— even the royal highways — being entrusted to the com-
munes."

This general statement about the roads of Piedmont
may easily be paralleled for the greater part of Italy - in
contemporary books of travel dating from the beginning to
the end of the century. Most significant are the accounts
of those travelers who write late in the eighteenth century
or early in the nineteenth, for one has a right by that time
to expect some improvement.

We may single out a few specimen comments, beginning
with the northern districts. James Edward Smith said
that the country about Genoa was so extremely hilly that
the only way of traveling into the interior parts was in
sedan chairs.' Writing in May of 1766, Sharp notes:
"We are arrived at Turin; but the journey from Alexandria
has been unpleasant; one night's rain has made the road
almost impassable, so muddy and clayey is the soil." •*

An earlier traveler, very fair-minded, says that the jour-
ney of ninety miles between San Remo and Genoa re-

46

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROADS

quires three days on muleback. The road is "either very
good or very bad, but much the most of the latter; gener-
ally along the brinks of vast high mountains, the path very
narrow and very rugged." '

Some friends of Smollett were "exposed to a variety of
disagreeable adventures from the impracticability of the
road. The coach had been several times in the most immi-
nent hazard of being lost with all our baggage ; and at two
different places it was necessary to hire a dozen of oxen
and as many men, to disengage it from the holes into which
it had run." *

A little ofl the main routes one might expect almost
anything. Here is an account of a drive to Petrarch's last
home — Arqua Petrarcha: "A little beyond the village of
Cataio, we turned ofl from the high road, and alighting
from the carriage on account of the swampiness of the
country, we walked and rowed occasionally through lines
of willows, or over tracts of marshy land, for two or three
miles, till we began to ascend the mountain. . . .^ We
passed through the village and descended the hill. Though
overturned by a blunder of the drivers, and for some time
suspended over the canal with imminent danger of being
precipitated into it, yet as the night was bright and warm,
and all the party in high spirits, the excursion was ex-
tremely pleasant." *

As for Tuscany, Bishop Burnet had remarked before
the close of the seventeenth century, "All the ways of
Tuscany are very rugged, except on the sides of the Amo;
but the uneasiness of the road is much qualified by the
great care that is had of the highways, which are all in
very good case." ^ De La Lande agrees with Burnet:
"One travels agreeably in Tuscany, the roads being in gen-
eral fine, with the exception of those between Siena and the
boundary of the Grand Duchy." ^

But of the much-traveled way between Bologna and
Florence Addison says: "The way . . . runs over several
ranges of mountains, and is the worst road, I believe, of
any over the Apennines, for this was my third time of

47

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROADS

crossing them." ^ In more detail Nugent comments:
"Tliis road is so incommodious for wheel-carriages that
those who travel between Bologna and Florence choose
either litters or mules, because of being obliged so often to
alight and walk a-foot, rather than calashes, in which they
travel in the plain country. The litters from Bologna to
Florence usually cost two pistoles and a half, or three pis-
toles, the horses eighteen or twenty julios, according to the
season." ^

Roads crossing the Apennines might be expected to offer
some difficulty, but even the great highways connecting
the North and the South were little better. The road
from Siena to Rome, one of the most traveled in Italy,
had an evil reputation. Says De Brosses, "It was more
than enough to dishearten travellers without mentioning
broken shafts or axles, somersaults, and other little inci-
dents of the trip." ^

Worst of all were the roads throughout the South. In
traveling in the Kingdom of Naples everything, says Tiva-
roni, had to be carried on the backs of mules. "It was
difficult or dangerous to go on horseback in Calabria, and
little less in the Abruzzi." * "Up to the time of Charles III,
the Kingdom [of Naples] had no roads except that to Rome
and perhaps in part that to Foggia. Every other trace of
passable roads was lacking. 'It is impossible,' remarked
Gorani, who was later at Naples, when already the roads
had increased in number, ' to travel in this kingdom. The
roads are extremely neglected and dangerous ; because there
is no police, they offer none of the conveniences that are
found in the greater part of the countries of Europe. Most
journeys are made on horseback, with horses or mules fol-
lowing for carrying baggage and provisions.'" ^

De La Lande confirms Tivaroni by saying of the road
between Rome and Naples that it was so bad in winter that
one ran great risk of being swallowed up in the mud-holes.^
"Charles III opened roads for wheeled carriages from
Naples as far as Capua, Caserta, Persano, Venafro, and
Bo vino. They led to the kings' hunting grounds."' From

48

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROADS

1778 to 1793, Ferdinand opened various carriage roads for
traffic between province and province and from the interior
to the sea. But these were only main thoroughfares. In
fact, throughout all the rest of the kingdom cross-roads
and means of intercommunication were lacking almost
everywhere.

Sicily was, if possible, even worse provided with means
of communication: "There were, in 1852, just 750 miles of
carriage-road in the whole island. Even the two chief
cities, Palermo and Messina, were not linked by any con-
tinuous highway, for the middle part of the connexion was
'a mule track 42 miles long.' Travellers, therefore, went
from the east to the west of the island by sea, except a few
of the richer and more adventurous English tourists, who
rode over the rough tracks, taking their own tents and
provisions, for the food and lodging that could be obtained
from the natives appear to have been more intolerable than
they are to-day." ^

The state of the roads in Sicily may be judged by a
single significant fact. In 1734, Charles of Bourbon had
occasion to go from the mainland to Palermo, but he pro-
ceeded all the way by sea, "as the proposal of a land jour-
ney was frustrated by the rugged nature of the country,
which was wild and almost uninhabited. "^ Obviously, the
average eighteenth-century tourist could not hope to
travel more easily than a prince in his own dominions.

IV

Germany

The roads of Germany were notoriously bad. Complaints
about them were incessant; and although much labor was
spent upon them in the later years of the eighteenth cen-
tury,^ there was so much to be done that the comments of
tourists were justly severe.'* In the eighteenth century, as
in our time, Germany had great and splendid cities, but
not until 1753 was the first scientifically constructed road

49

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROADS

built. Misson found the roads between Cologne and Mainz
so bad that he went by the Rhine "notwithstanding the
extreme slowness of the passage." ^ In speaking of the
road between Augsburg and Munich he says: "The country
is extremely rough for coaches, by the straight road; they
are very apt to overturn, and the passengers are often con-
strain'd to alight, by reason of the continual ascending and
descending among the mountains." ^ From Nuremberg
the roads were "very bad and woody till you come towards
Ingolstadt." "Our journey along the Rhine," says Breval,
"thro' the extreme badness of the ways, tho' in the midst
of Summer, took us up two whole days between Shaffhouse
and Augst." ^

In the same tenor Nugent cautions travelers: "The
roads in general are very indifferent, which makes it down-
right misery to travel in bad weather." * Post-wagons, he
says, do not make over eighteen miles a day. The fastidious
Duke of Hamilton traveled in company with Dr. Moore,
who wrote an account of their journeys. In going from
Frankfort to Cassel they arrived at midnight of the second
day. "As the ground is quite covered with snow, the roads
bad, and the posts long, we were obliged to take six horses
for each chaise, which, after all, in some places, moved no
faster than a couple of hearses." Moore interjects a word
of comment on "the phlegm and obstinacy of German
postillions, of which one who has not travelled in the ex-
tremity of the winter, and when the roads are covered with
snow, through this country, can form no idea." ^

Another tourist says that ten hours were required to go
the thirty-six miles from Limburg to Frankfort-on-the-
Main.® As late as 1826 the Englishman Russell pronounced
some portions of the road from Magdeburg to Berlin "the
worst in Europe," — an "unceasing pull through loose
dry sand, which rises to the very nave of the wheel." ^
The same conditions obtained about Hanover. "Scarcely
out of the gates of Hanover, and the wheels already drowned
in sand up to the axle-tree." ^

The roads in Austria were, in some districts, better than

50

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY ROADS

in regions farther west, but a tourist seeking an impassable
highway could safely count on finding one. In going, as
late as 1798, from Lobositz to Aussig, writes Mariana
Starke, "the lightest vehicle can scarcely escape over-
turning, unless held up by men. . . . Two persons who
went in carriages at the same time with us broke blood-
vessels, while others were over-turned, and nearly killed
with fatigue." ^

After this recital, which could be indefinitely extended,
of the difficulties attending travel on German roads, we
may with little hesitation agree with a tourist in Germany
at the end of the eighteenth century that "the manner of
travelling ... is more inconvenient than in any other
part of Europe equally civilized. Intercommunication is
therefore greatly impeded and in the winter months totally
interrupted." ^

V

The Low Countries

In the Low Countries, particularly in Flanders, the roads
appear to have been very good except in some of the less
frequented parts. ^ The slight elevation of the land offered
small obstacles to the building of thoroughfares that went
with undeviating directness from one town to another. In
multitudes of instances the road ran beside the canal and
served both as a towpath and a highway for general traffic.
Very commonly, as we may see in the pictures of Hobbema,
the roads were planted with two rows of trees and main-
tained in excellent condition. James Essex, who toured in
France and the Low Countries in 1773, went from Antwerp
by way of Mechlin to Brussels and notes in his "Journal":
"The Roads are worth the notice of a Traveler, being made
through the most delightfull inclosed Country that can be
immagined, it is paved in the middle, as well as the best
streets in London, and kept in better repair." *

51

CHAPTER V

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES
I

France *-

The means of transportation in France in the eighteenth
century were often praised, even by foreigners; and we have
already seen that the French highways were among the
best in Europe. "TravelHng," says Nugent, "is no where
more convenient than in France, with respect as well to
carriages as accommodations on the road. Where there is
conveniency of rivers, they have water carriages, which
are large boats drawn by horses. Their land carriages are
of four sorts, \'iz. post chaises, the carossc or stage-coach,
the cocJic, and the diligence or flying-coach." ^ He might
have added the berline, a four-wheeled vehicle ^'ith a
hooded seat behind, which was said to be very comfortable.'

Yet English travelers of all classes find much to criticize
in the vehicles offered for hire in France. It must be con-
fessed that most countries of Europe were not so well pro-
vided, but the development of facilities for travel in France
had been somewhat slow. "As late as 1686 there was be-
tween Rouen and Havre but one carriage for hire, which
was covered with canvas ' and was neither decent nor
comfortable." * An Englishman in the last quarter of the
seventeenth century summarized his impression of French
horses and vehicles in the following terms: "Their horses
[are] little, and so strangely put together that scarce any
of them can either trot or gallop, and 'tis easier to teach
an English horse to dance than one of them to amble, for
they can only go the pas, whence their coaches and all
manner of voiture, is so slow as 'tis intolerable."*

And another English tourist nearly a century later ob-

52

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

serves: "The French vehicles for travelling appear very-
unpromising to an Englishman: their timbers seem to con-
stitute a sufficient load without the passengers or the bag-
gage, especially as the French horses are but small; and
their springs, which are placed behind to diminish the shocks
upon the stone pavements of their great roads, very much
resemble the hammers of a fulling-mill." '

The same traveler remarks upon his journey from Saint-
Omer to Lisle: "In the shafts of our chaise they place a
horse of the cart breed, but below the size of our drawing
horses, harnessed with ropes and a great wooden collar.
By the sides of the shaft-horse are two ponies, on one of
which the postilion rides, with boots, literally as big as two
oyster-barrels, and armed with hoops of iron, to save his
leg in case of accidents." ^

So, too, Mrs. Piozzi says that at Calais the "postillions
with greasy night-caps and vast jack-boots, driving your
carriage harnessed with ropes, and adorned with sheep-
skins, can never fail to strike an Englishman at his first
visit abroad." '

But notwithstanding some weak spots in the system,
the public transportation service in France in the eighteenth
century was fairly satisfactory. Dr. Rigby, in 1789, re-
marks in a letter from Chantilly: "Yesterday we travelled
more than ninety miles with perfect ease; the roads are
most excellent; the horses are good for travelling, I really
think better than the English, but they are all rough, with
long manes and tails, and no trimmed or cropped ears,
which I believe makes the English abuse them." * One
could with little difficulty find a conveyance making regular
trips from most places of any size and connecting with all
parts of the kingdom, and one could at most posting-houses
find a chaise for one's personal use. For long journeys, as,
for instance, between Calais and Paris or Paris and Lyons,
unless the traveler could afford his own carriage, he com-
monly went in the diligence,^ "so called from its expedi-
tion." "This," says Nugent, "differs from the carosse or
ordinary stage-coach in little else but in moving with greater

53

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

velocity," * and in maldng from "seventy to a hundred
miles a day."' "But," objects Smollett, "the inconven-
iences attending this way of travelling are these. You are
crowded into the carriage to the number of eight persons
so as to sit very uneasy, and sometimes run the risk of
being stifled among very indifferent company. You are
hurried out of bed at four, three, nay often at two in the
morning.^ You are obliged to eat in the French way. which
is very disagreeable to an English palate." * Arthur Ycning,
too. notes in his "Travels in France":^ "This is the first
French diligence I have been in, and shall be the last; they
are detestable."

Well on in the nineteenth century Bayard Taylor, though
not particularly fastidious, agrees perfectly with Young.
"After waiting an hour in a hotel beside the rushing Yonne,
a liunbering diligence was got ready, and we were offered
places to Paris for seven francs. As the distance is one
hundred and ten miles, this would be considered cheap fare,
but I should not want to travel it again and be paid for
doing so. Twelve persons were packed into a box not large
enough for a cow." * For many travelers, however, the
advantages of a system of transportation that was inex-
pensive and relieved them of all responsibility outweighed
the discomfort.

More than one tourist has left us a strildng pictm-e of this
mountainous and un\\-ieldy vehicle. — "a huge, rickety,
shabby, yellow argosy, all over dried, dirty mud splashes." '
Edward Wright, who traveled in France toward the end
of the first quarter of the century, says of it: "The dili-
gence, a great coach that holds eight persons, is a machine
that has not its name for nothing; what it wants in quick-
ness it makes up in assiduity; though by the help of eight
mules which drew it, we sometimes went at a brisk pace too;
ha\'ing pass'd from Lyons to Marseilles, which they call
a hundred leagues, in three days and a half." ^

"The stage-coach or diligence used in this country," says
Nugent, "is much more convenient than those in England.
It has eight chairs, neither of which touch one another, for

54

A nifJfiFCNCE

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

the passcn^'crs to sit in; and each chair has a sash-window
to put up and take the air, or shut, as the passen^fcr pleases.
No body rides with their face backwards, but turned toward
the horses. They chan^'c horses every twelve miles,' and
go sometimes ninety or one hundred miles a day." *

The diligence grew in bulk and in massiveness until it
was as large as an ordinary load of hay, carried twenty or
thirty passengers, and weighed five tons.^ The equipment
of this huge machine always included a conductor and a
postilion. At the opening of the nineteenth century John
Carr pictures the overgrown vehicle of his day going be-
tween Cherbourg and Rouen: "At daybreak we seated
ourselves in the diligence. All the carriages of this descrip-
tion have the appearance of being the result of the earliest
efforts in the art of coach building. A more uncouth clumsy
machine can scarcely be imagined." In the front is a cabri-
olet fixed to the body of the coach, for the accommodation
of three passengers, who are protected from the rain above
by the projecting roof of the coach, and in front by two
heavy curtains of leather, well oiled, and smelling some-
what offensively, fastened to the roof. The inside, which
is capacious and lofty, and will hold six people with great
comfort, is lined with leather padded, and surrounded with
little pockets, in which the travellers deposit their bread,
snuff, night caps and pocket handkerchiefs, which generally
enjoy each others' company in the same delicate depositary.
From the roof depends a large net work, which is generally
crowded with hats, swords, and band-boxes; the whole is
convenient, and when all parties are seated and arranged,
the accommodations are by no means unpleasant. Upon
the roof, on the outside, is the imperial, which is generally
filled with six or seven persons more, and a heap of luggage,
which latter also occupies the basket, and generally pre-
sents a pile, half as high again as the coach, which is se-
cured by ropes and chains, tightened by a large iron wind-
lass, which also constitutes another appendage of this
moving mass. The body of the carriage rests upon
large thongs of leather, fastened to heavy blocks of

55

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

wood, instead of springs, and the whole is drawn by seven
horses." ^

The charge for transportation in the diligence
often included all the expenses of the traveler on
the way.^

Besides the diligence, we note as public conveyances the
carosse and the coche. "The carosse," says Nugent, "is
not unlike our stage-coach, containing room for six pas-
sengers, but does not move so quick, and is more emljiar-
rassed with goods and baggage. The coche is a large heavy
machine, which serves the use both of waggon and coach;
it is long-shaped, and provided with windows at the sides,
containing generally sixteen passengers, viz., twelve in the
body of the coach, sitting two abreast, and two each side
at the door of the entrance, a seat being provided there for
that purpose. It is furnished with two large conveniencies,
one before and another behind, which are made of basket
wicker, and are therefore called baskets. Into these bas-
kets they put large quantities of goods, which makes it
very heavy in drawing. Sometimes both the baskets are
filled with goods, and sometimes the fore one is left
empty for passengers, in which the fare is less than in the
coach, and they have a covering overhead to preserve
them from the injury of the weather. Its motion is but
slow, seldom exceeding that of a brisk walk, and as the
roads are generally paved with large stone, this kind of
vehicle is generally very jumbling and disagreeable.^ The
expence of travelling with the carosse or stage-coach is
less than half the sum of riding post, but then you are to
make an allowance for being longer upon the road. As
for the particular fares of stage-coaches, we shall mention
them in each journey ; only we are to observe here that the
expence of baggage is paid apart, and is generally three sols
for every pound above fourteen or fifteen pound weight,
which is free. With regard to provisions on the road, your
safest way, if you travel post, is to know the price of every-
thing before you order it; but with the stage-coach, your
meals are generally regulated at fixed prices, as with us;

S6

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

your entertainment is exceeding good, and the whole ex-
pence seldom exceeds five or six livres a day." '

But as the route of the diligence and the stage-coach was
fixed, there was sometimes an advantage in being able to
direct one's own course, and to make use of a voiturin,
who represented in France the familiar vetturino system of
Italy. "These voiturins," says Smith, "are to be met with
throughout Italy and the south of France. They under-
take the conveyance of a traveller, for a certain sum, in a
fixed time, to the place of his destination; and, if desired,
will pay all his expenses at the inns by the way; which we
afterwards found is the best method. This mode is much
cheaper, and infinitely less embarrassing, than travelling
post. It requires, indeed, very early rising, and is very
slow; but the latter was no objection to us, as we could
alight at pleasure to botanize, and walk full as fast as
our horses or mules, till we were tired." 2

But a great number of tourists elected to go by post.
From "Calais to this place, Lyons," writes the Earl of
Cork and Orrery, "we have passed most of our time in post-
chaises." 3 All the main roads throughout the kingdom
were minutely divided by the government into posting-
stages." At the posting-houses one might expect to find
horses, and usually carriages, for hire at a fixed rate.^
Wealthy travelers of the nobility or of some importance
used to be preceded by an avant-courier who would order
horses to be in waiting for them.^ But at Mirepoix, a town
of fifteen thousand inhabitants, Arthur Young could find
no carriages at all for hire.^

As the posting-service was strictly regulated, the guide-
books gave minute directions to the tourist, just landed at
Calais, as to what he should do: "At the post house, which
is the Silver Lion, kept by Mr. Grandsire, you bargain for
a chaise to go to Paris; if there be only one person, he
will let you have a pretty good one for two guineas and a
half; and if two, he will have three guineas. You have
the privilege of carrying a great weight of portmanteaus
and trunks behind your post-chaise; but their horses are

57

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

very indifferent, so that it is not advisable to encumber
3^ourself with too much baggage, but rather to send it by
the stage-coach, which sets out twice a week from Calais
to Paris, and is seven days upon the road; the fare is thirty
livres for each passenger, and three sols per pound for his
baggage. The coach from Paris to Calais and Dunkirk
sets up at the Grand Cerf, rue S. Denis. The roads from
Calais to Paris are pretty good; and you go with any of
their post-horses very near a post an hour. . . . ^rom
Calais to Paris are thirty-two posts. . . . Upon the whole,
for the thirty-two posts you pay, if you are two in com-
pany, 164 livres, two sols, which is about 61. i6s. 6d. But if
you are single, the whole cost will be, horses and boys only
99 livres, two sols, which is about 4/. 65. gVzd. English." ^

On the matter of posting Smollett gives also his experi-
ence, and adds that posting in England is pleasanter, with
less imposition and expense:- "The post is farmed from
the king, who lays travellers under contribution for his
own benefit, and has published a set of oppressive ordi-
nances, which no stranger nor native dares transgress. The
postmaster finds nothing but horses and guides: the car-
riage you yourself must provide. If there are four persons
within the carriage, you are obliged to have six horses
and two postillions; and if your servant sits on the out-
side, either before or behind, you must pay for a seventh.
You pay double for the first stage from Paris, and twice
double for passing through Fontainebleau when the court
is there, as well as at coming to Lyons, and at leaving this
city." 3

Of posting in 1739 we have a sketch by the poet Gray,
who was going from Calais to Boulogne: "In the after-
noon we took a post-chaise (it still snowing very hard) for
Boulogne, which was only eighteen miles farther. This
chaise is a strange sort of conveyance, of much greater use
than beauty, resembling an ill-shaped chariot, only with
the door opening before instead of the side; three horses
draw it, one between the shafts, and the other two on each
side, on one of which the postillion rides, and drives too.

S8

I

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

This vehicle will, upon occasion, go fourscore miles a day,
but Mr. Walpole, being in no hurry, chooses to make easy
journeys of it, and they are easy ones indeed; for the
motion is much like that of a sedan. We go about six
miles an hour, and commonly change horses at the end of
it. It is true they are no very graceful steeds, but they go
well, and through roads which they say are bad for France,
but to me they seem gravel walks and bowling greens; in
short, it would be the finest travelling in the world were it
not for the inns, which are mostly terrible places indeed." *

Posting certainly had some inconveniences, and com-
plaints were frequent that the charges were excessive.
But for the tourist of comfortable income it appears to have
been the most satisfactory means of travel in France. ^
When Morris Birkbeck was in France in 1 8 14, his party was
not at first entirely pleased with the system, but after-
wards "found posting not so inconvenient or expensive.
If you take your own voiture, or hire one for the journey,
you escape the miserable cabriolets provided by the post-
masters, and the trouble of changing every seven or ten
miles. You may take also two horses at forty sous each
instead of three at thirty sous ; and you save thirty sous a
stage, which is charged when they furnish a carriage. With
these precautions, there is not much room to complain of
French posting." '

To avoid a succession of uncomfortable carriages Smol-
lett's suggestion was worth heeding. "I would advise
every man who travels through France to bring his own
vehicle along with him, or at least to purchase one at
Calais or Boiilogne, where second-hand berlins or chaises
may generally be had at reasonable rates." *

Hired private coaches were an expensive luxury, drawn
as they were by four or six horses, and accompanied by two
postilions. One's private servant often attended on horse-
back or on the coach. Smollett when in Paris looked into
the means of conveyance to the south of France. "When
I went to the bureau, where alone these voitures are to be
had, I was given to understand that it would cost me six-

59

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

niid-twcnty i;;iuiions, atid travel so slow that I .should be ton
days upon the road. These carriages are let by the same
persons who fami the diligence; and for this they have an
exclusive privilege, which makes them very saucy and in-
solent. When I mentioned my servant, they gave me to
understand that I must pay two loui'dorcs more for his
seat upon the coach box." *

So ponderous were the French coaches that one ran the
risk of being set on fire several times a day by the friction
of the wheels.^ Besides this, there was often friction of
another sort, as we see from the following delicious passage :
" Through the whole south of France, except in large cities,"
Smollett found "the postilions lazy, lounging, greedy, and
impertinent. If you chide them for lingering, they will
continue to delay you the longer : if you chastise them with
sword, cane, cudgel, or horse-whip.' they will either dis-
appear entirely, and leave you without resources; or they
will find means to talce vengeance by overturning your
carriage. The best method I know of travelling with any
degree of comfort, is to allow yourself to become the dupe
of imposition, and stimulate their endeavors by extraor-
dinary gratifications. I laid down a resolution (and kept
it) to give no more than four and twent}^ sols per post be-
tween the twi> postilions; but I am now persuaded that
for throo-ponco a post more. I should have been much
better served, and should have performed the journey mth
greater pleasure." '

However one might travel from place to place, a tourist
of any pretensions was expected in any of the larger cities
of the Continent to keep a carriage as a visible token of his
respectability. For example, on going to Paris after having
subnntlod to the "absolutely requisite" French tailor and
barber, "the next thing is to get a convenicney to carry
you abroad, that you may with elegance and ease go and
see every thing that is curious'in and about Paris. Your
best way is to have a recommendation to some of those
people who let coaches out to hire ; and if you are only two
in company, a chaiiot is most advisable. You may have a

Oo

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

gay and easy gilt coach or chariot, and a coachman, with a
good pair of horses, for twelve livres, which is about ten
shiHings a day, to attend you from seven in the morning till
midnight, and to carry you to Versailles, etc. This is
certainly the best way, because their hackney-coaches arc
dirty and mean, and few people of any fashion, especially
strangers, either use them or walk much in the streets.
It is to be observed that you must sign a contract for your
coach or chariot, to have it a month as your own; the
lawyer or notary draws the contract by the coach-lender's
orders, and you pay five shillings for his fee and one shil-
ling for his clerk, who attends you to get it signed. This
contract the coachman carries in his pocket, to entitle him
to drive you out of town to Versailles, etc., for without it
the coach is not privileged to carry you out of the gates
of Paris.' But tho' you contract for a month for the
sake of this privilege, yet you may give up your coach
at the end of ten days, or a fortnight, paying for the
days you have had it ; and a fortnight will be long enough
to carry you to most of the places you want to see in and
about Paris." ^

For going short distances, particularly when attending
a social gathering in full dress, the tourist in more than
one Continental city found a sedan chair useful. But,
obviously, this was a convenience of very limited range.

II

Italy

From what has been said of the Italian roads it is obvious
that none but a very substantial conveyance could be
trusted to bring the traveler safely to his destination.
What the carriages were like we learn from many descrip-
tions. Now and then, as in France, the tourist ventured to
travel in his own private vehicle. In such a case, Baretti
recommends that "a traveller ought to have his post-chaise
not only strongly built to resist the many stony roads in

6i

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

Italy, but likewise have it so contrived as to be easily taken
to pieces where it must inevitably be disjoined in order to
pass a mountain or to be put into a felucca; that is, in going
over mount Cenis, or from some part of southern France to
Genoa." ^

In more detail Mariana Starke advises that "those Per-
sons who design to travel much in Italy should provide
themselves with a strong, low-hung, doubled-perched Eng-
lish coach or post-chaise, with well-seasoned corded springs,"
and iron axle-trees, two drag-chains with iron shoes, ...
tools for repairing ... a carriage, ... a sword-case . . .
two moderate-sized trunks," ^ etc.

Arthur Young, however, was warned by men who had
traveled much in Italy, that he must not think of going
thither in his own one-horse chaise.* "To watch my
horse being fed would, they assured me, take up abundantly
too much time, and if it was omitted, with respect to hay,
as well as oats, both would be equally stolen. There are
also parts of Italy where travelling alone, as I did, would be
very unsafe, from the number of robbers that infest the
roads. Persuaded by the opinions of persons, who I sup-
pose must know much better than myself, I had determined
to sell my mare and chaise, and travel in Italy by the
veturini, who are to be had it seems everywhere, and at a
cheap rate." ^

When he arrived at Toulon, Young accordingly tagged
his chaise with a large label, "A vendre," and finally sold
it and his mare for twenty-two louis — ten louis less than
they had cost him at Paris. "I had next to consider the
method to get to Nice [from Toulon]; and will it be be-
lieved, that from Marseilles with 100,000 souls, and Tou-
lon with 30.000, lying in the great road to Antibes, Nice,
and Italy, there is no diligence or regular voiture. A gen-
tleman at the table d'hdte assured me they asked him
three louis for a place in a voiture to Antibes, and to wait
till some other person would give three more for another
seat. To a person accustomed to the infinity of machines
that fly about England, in all directions, this must appear

62

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

hardly credible. Such great cities in France have not the
hundredth part of connection and communication with
each other that much inferior places enjoy with us." ^

Obviously, with but such a happy-go-lucky system on a
main road between France and Italy, nothing better could
be expected on the less traveled roads of Italy itself. The
ordinary accommodations are briefly outlined by Nugent
in the "Grand Tour." ^ and these we may supplement with
more detail: "There are several ways of travelHng in
Italy, such as with post-horses; with a vettura or hired
coach or calash in which they do not change horses; and,
finally, with a procaccio or stage-coach that undertakes
to furnish passengers with provisions and necessary accom-
modations on the road. Travelling post you pay five julios
a horse at each post (a julio is about sixpence) and two
julios to the postilion. The price of the vetturas is fixed
differently according to the difference of province or road;
and the same may be said of the procaccios, which is
much the worst way of travelling." '

The posting-system had the convenience of permitting the
traveler to pay his way to the place he wished to visit,*
without placing upon him further responsibility for the
carriage or the driver. Well organized as the system was,
it did not, however, prevent occasional annoyance that
stirred the wrath of irritable tourists. "Of all the people
I have ever seen," said Smollett, "the hostlers, postilions
and other fellows, hanging about the post-houses in Italy,
are the most greedy, impertinent, and provoking." ^

Some of the petty regulations, moreover, were un-
questionably very exasperating; and to avoid them De La
Lande advises the traveler going from France to take a
carriage straight through from Lyons to Turin. ^ He
remarks: "It is a rule at Chamb^ry, as in the rest of Italy,
that when one arrives by post one must continue in the
same fashion or spend three nights in the place where one
arrives, if one wishes to take drivers." ^ In the reverse
direction, "Post-masters at Turin are not to furnish trav-
ellers with horses without a licence from the secretary of

63

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

state for forcii::n aflairs; and those in the pro\'inccs, from
the governors or chief magistrate of the place. No person,
w-ithout a particular order, is permitted to ride post without
a postilion. None are suffered to pass by a post-house
without changing horses, or to go beyond the frontiers in
any other carriage but the usual post- waggon. It is an
inconvenience to travellers, that, though they come by
the post, they are not pennitted to proceed in another car-
riage without staj-ing three days in the place whei^ the
stage sots out from." ^

Sometimes post-horses were lacldng, as was once the
case when Dr. Moore was in a hilly district. But in this
instance their place was taken by "throe cart-horses and
two oxon, which wore roliovod in the most mountainous
part of the road by bufTalos. There is a brood of these
animals in this country; they are strong, hardy, and
docile, and found preferable to either horses or oxon, for
ploughing in a rough and hill}' country. " ^ In more than one
part of the country, particularly in the first third of the
eighteenth century, the main dependence, indeed, was upon
oxen or buffaloes.'

All in all, however, in the second half of the century, as
Baretti remarks, "The fact is, that the post-horses are in
general very good all over Italy, and that our postillions
generally drive at a great rate, trotting their horses on
any ascent, and galloping on flat ground rather in a des-
perado way than other\vise." ■*

Tourists who wished to escape the necessity of looldng af-
ter themselves or their vehicle commonly arranged matters
with a vctturino or his agent. We have numerous accounts
of the journeys talcen in this way, for until the intro-
duction of railways it was the system ordinarily followed.
Accounts dating from the early nineteenth century agree
in general vdth those of a century or two earlier.* Bayard
Taylor in 1845 went in substantially the same fashion as
Alisson in the seventeenth century. Says Misson: "We
agreed at Rome to be carried in calashes, and to have all
our charges borne dming the space of eleven days, from

64

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

Rome to Florence, by the way of Viterbo, vSienna, Leghorn,
Pisa, Lucca, and Pistoia, for six Italian pistoles apiece;
which was somewhat too dear a rate, tho', 'tis true, calashes
were very scarce at Rome when we left it." '

Taylor, in his turn, remarks: "Travelling with a vetturino
is unquestionably the pleasantest way of seeing Italy. The
easy rate of the journey allows time for becoming well ac-
quainted with the country, and the tourist is freed from the
annoyance of quarrelling with cheating landlords. A trans-
lation of our written contract will best explain this mode
of travelling : ' Our contract is, to be conducted to Rome for
the sum of twenty francs each, say 20/. and the buona mano,
if we are well served. We must have from the vetturino,
Giuseppe Nerpiti, supper each night, a free chamber with
two beds, and fire, until we shall arrive at Rome. I Gero-
nymo Sartarelli, steward of the Inn of the White Cross,
at Foligno, in testimony of the above contract.'" *

In this fashion James Edward Smith made his tour in
1786 from Pisa to Florence and thence to Rome. His
carriage had two wheels and a speed of about four miles
an hour. ' ' We engaged a voiturin to convey us both (from
Pisa) to Florence, forty-nine miles, for fifty pauls (not
twenty-five shillings), to be fed Vjy the way into the bar-
gain. To our astonishment, we were excellently accom-
modated ; and we made use of this same honest fellow, whose
name was Diego Baroncello, to carry us over most parts
of Italy .^ We never had a word of dispute all the way." *

Most tourists who could afford the time and the money
went as far as Naples, commonly with a vetturino. The
invaluable Misson ^ tells us: "The journey from Rome to
Naples is usually perform'd thus: the travellers hire either
horses or carriages, or both together, that they may have
the advantage of easing themselves by change: and the
person with whom they agree at Rome, every passenger
paying fifteen piasters,^ obliges himself to give them eight
meals in their journey outwards, and as many in their re-
turn; to stay five whole days at Naples, to pay the boat
at Cajeta, to lend his horses one day to Vesuvius, and

65

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

another to Puzzolo; both which arc comprehended in the
five to be spent at Naples. Thus the whole journey is
perfomi'd in fifteen days; on the last of which they retuni
to Rome."

The German Keysler finds fault with the price and the
length of time required for the journey: " In travellini^ from
Rome to Naples it is very inconvenient to go with the
vetturini; for though the road they take lies over Monte
Cassino. and consequently gives one an opportunely of
seeing the celebrated Benedictine monastery on that hill;
yet it is attended with the mortification of being five days
on the road and papng the vetturini an extraordinary
price for their loss of time.* In the months of February
and March a person must be very expeditious to travel
seven stages in a post-chaise from sun-rising to sunset;
but in summer the seventeen stages and a half between
Rome and Naples are easily performed in two days. For
the two chaise-horses at every stage within the Neapolitan
territories, one pays eleven carlini, and half as much for
the chaise, if wanted." ^

In place of going with a vctturino, "It is more adWsable,"
says Nugent, "to make use of the procaccio^ or ordinary
carrier from Rome to Naples, with whom they ma>- agree
for seven crowns, for which he gives them seven meals,
and carries them thither in five days. Those who chuse
the first method with the vetturino are obUged to come
back the same way they went, which is not so agxeeable
to a curious traveller. But gentlemen who have not agreed
with the carrier may in their return leave the direct road
and travel further within land, on the right side of it,
hiring horses from to\NTi to town. With the vetturino from
Rome to Naples, you pay five crowns a horse, fifteen for a
calash, and eighteen for a litter. The road is generally bad.
and the accommodations none of the best." ^

Obviously, the satisfaction of a traveler who went with
a vetturino would largely depend upon the fairness and
honesty of the conductor. An unscrupulous fellow had
it in his power to cause the traveler great annoyance and

66

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

discomfort. Nugent gives warning that if the coachman
agrees to provide the food, passengers are in danger of
short commons. And in the same tenor HazHtt says:'
"The vetturino owners . . . bargain to provide you for a
certain sum and then billet you upon the innkeepers for
as httle as they can." ^ a further oh^jection, says Nugent,
IS that the "coachman in winter travels very often before
It IS day,« and after it is dark, in order to get to his station
where he expects to find his account in the reckoning " *
All m all, says Goethe, "It is but sorry travelling with a
vettunno, it is always best to follow at one's ease on foot
In this way I travelled from Ferrara to this place" s —
i.e., Assisi. Of course, Goethe was a poet and an athlete
m the pride of youth, but his opinion must have been shared
by many a weary traveler.

With all its drawbacks, the vetturino system afforded a
passable means of conveyance. One other system, how-
ever, was preferred by many travelers on account of its
greater independence. But Smollett, as we might expect,
comments upon the inconvenience « of frequently shifting
the baggage, and bestows a characteristic word upon the
vehicle: "The chaise or calesse of this country is a wretched
machine with two wheels, as uneasy as a common cart,
being indeed no other than what we should call in England
a very ill-contrived one-horse chair, narrow, naked, shat-
tered and shabby." '

According to Misson « the shafts of the Roman calashes
were "at least fifteen feet long, and consequently 'tis im-
possible to turn the calash in a narrow way." Even
James Edward Smith bestows very moderate praise upon
the calash. "Nothing is more ridiculous to an English-
man than the manner of driving these vehicles. We
were allowed only to hold the reins, or rather ropes, and
our dnver stood behind, brandishing the whip over our
heads." 9

From our survey it is clear that no method of travel in
Italy was ideal. But on the whole the balance seems to
be m favor of the cambiaiura. This, too, is the opinion of

67

ETGHTFENTH CENTURY CAKHI AGES

Nu,i:ot\t. whose \\-ido ox(>orionce xway he allowed to count
for moa^ thati the utterances of tlie ever-irritable Stnollett.
Nugent's view, tnoreover. ajjjces so closely with Missou's
that he has borrowed tnauy of the older writer's very
phrases. " But to return to the carriaj^es; tlie best way . . .
of travellinij in this country is with the cambiatura. where
it can be had. which is only in the ecclesiastical state, in
Tuscany, and in the dutchies of Partua and Modena. The
price of the cambiat\ira is generally at the rate of two^ulios
a horse each post.* The v:jcatest conveniency of this way
of travelliui^ is that you may stop where you please, and
chaui^e your horses or calash at every canibiatura. without
bein.i: oblitred to pay for their return, and besides you may
take what time you please to satisfy your curiosity. There
is room for two people in a calasli, which is a much better
way of travelliui:: than on horseback, because a person has
the advantage of being skreened from the sun aiui weather,
and he is allowed to carry a portmanteau fastened to it of
200 weight. But 'tis proper to look from time to time to
the portmanteau, or to make a ser\'ant follow the calash
on horseback, in order to take qwe of the baggage; though
this trouble may in great measurc be prevented by fasten-
ing the portmanteau to the calash with an iron chain and
a padlock, as is frequently done behind post-chaises in
Germany. The t>*ing and untx-ing of the portmanteau at
every cambiatura is a necessary piece of trouble that at-
tends this way of travelling; wherefore those who have a
long journey to make, and intend not to stop on the road,
or only to make a short stay, ought always to agree with
one Vetturino for the whole passage. But the best way is
to have a calash of your own." '

III

Germany

To pass from the well-ordered system of transportation
in France to the primitive svstcm of Germany seemed to

68

i

EIGHTEENTH CENTURY CARRIAGES

most travelers almost like j^oing from civilization to bar-
barism. Even Italy sustainorl without much difficulty a
comparison with Germany in this particular.

The reasons for the backward condition of Germany we
have considered in some detail elsewhere, but they are
worth bearing in mind, "Germany," says Coj^an at the
end of the c-i^htcenth century, "is but thinly inhabited in
proportion to its ^reat extent; exceptinj.^ on the borders of
the Rhine, the lar^e towns are comparatively few, and at a
great distance from each other;"' and by Germany he
meant not only what we now call Germany, but also the
Teutonic regions of Austria. Communication at a distance
was extremely difficult, and in winter practically impossi-
ble. The natural results of isolation followed. Particu-
lari.sm held sway in every part of the Empire. Moreover,
almost every detail that we learn about German life in
the eighteenth century strengthens the conviction that for
the average burgher it was the day of small things. Trade
was limited, and manufacturing enterprises were few.
Incentives to travel for business or for pleasure were, in
comparison with our time, strangely lacking. The country
in various parts impressed strangers as being old-fashioned
and very backward in its ways. Mariana Starke, in going
from Italy to Vienna in 1798, oVjserved that "The passing
through this part of Germany seenas like living some
hundred years ago in England; as the dresses, customs, and
manners of the people precisely resemble those of our an-
cestors." ^

Great cities there were, like Berlin and Hamburg and
Leipsic and Vienna, where wealth and luxury abounded,
and petty courts like Anspach and Cassel and Karlsruhe
at least suggested the lavish display of Versailles, but the
task of going from one city to another was the reverse of
inviting. In some parts of Germany where one might rea-
sonably have expected adequate means of transportation,
there was a very painful lack.^ As we have already seen,
the roads in general were very inferior, making "it down-
right misery to travel in bad weather." *

69

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

In selecting the means of transportation the choice was
between the rough, clumsy public vehicles and one's pri-
vate carriage. A posting- wagon meant something very
different in Germany from what it did in France or even
Italy, and was practically a comfortless sort of stage-
coach. For the public posting- wagons of Germany no
one has a good word. Misson calls them "a miserable
sort of cart," and adds: "They often move very slowly,
but to make amends, they jog on night and day. This is
the most troublesome of all carriages, as I found it to my
cost." 1

Travelers throughout the eighteenth century and even
much later are in entire accord with Misson. Nugent does,
indeed, say: "There is no country in Europe where the
post is under better regulation than in Germany," but he
immediately adds: "The common way of travelling is in
machines which they call post-waggons,'^ and which very
well deserve that denomination. These are little better
than common carts, with seats made for the passengers,
without any covering, except in Hesse Cassel, and a few
other places. They go but a slow pace, not much above
three miles an hour, and what is stiirmore inconvenient to
passengers, they jog on day and night, winter and summer,
rain or snow, till they arrive at the place appointed. . . .
But this is a way of travelling recommendable to those
only who cannot be at the expense of a more commodious
manner." ^

If the three-mile rate had been actually kept up day and
night, one would of course have covered seventy miles or
more in twenty-four hours. But such dizzy speed was not
always possible, and sometimes the record for a day did
not exceed eighteen miles.

As for the companions of one's journey in the post-wagon
some travelers are not over-enthusiastic. "My company
consisted of a swine of an Oldenburgh dealer in horses, a
clodpole Bremen broker, and a pretty female piece of
flesh, mere dead flesh, lying before me on the straw. There
was not a word spoke all the way from Gottingen here

70

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

[Cassel], so that if the dulcis et alia quies had not been now
and then interrupted by coughing, sneezing, belching, and
the like, I should not have known that I had company
with me." *

The Englishman Russell traveling in Germany in 1828
found the post-wagon to be still of the eighteenth-century
type. In going through the Rhine region he remarks:
"What the Germans call a DiUgence or Postwagen, drag-
ging its slow length through this delicious scene, is' a bad
feature in the picture. Much as we laugh at the meagre
cattle, the knotted rope-harness, and lumbering paces of
the machines which bear the same name in France, the
French have outstripped their less alert neighbours in
everything that regards neatness, and comfort, and expe-
dition. The German carriage resembles the French one,
but is still more clumsy and unwieldy." 2

The luggage, towering on high like a "castle" as large
as the wagon itself, was secured by chains. Inside the
wagon sat six passengers, and with the guard sat two more.
Four horses slowly dragged the great load, while from all the
openings of the vehicle poured out in dense clouds the smoke
of vile tobacco. Naturally enough, the Englishman trav-
eling for pleasure and not as a penance was warned in
advance not to use the public post- wagons. "The only
way of travelling with comfort through Germany," says
the author of the "Tour in Germany," ^ "is in a chaise of
your own and with post-horses." This merely repeats the
advice of Nugent, who points out that "then a person is
at liberty to stop at what station he pleases, and as long
as he pleases." ^ He remarks, too, that by having a chaise
to one's self one saves "the trouble of tying and untying
the baggage; because when a person hires a chaise of the
post-office, he must change it at every stage, which is
vastly inconvenient." ^

Sometimes one arranged to travel in a post-chaise, but
bargained to have all expenses on the road covered for a
fixed sum. With an arrangement of this sort Mariana
Starke, in April of 1798, left Florence for Dresden, "with

71

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

a light strong German post-chaise unloaded, and a Voi-
turin's coach for our baggage, each carriage being usually
drawn by three mules ; and we gave for six of these animals,
from Florence to Hamburg, three hundred and thirty
Tuscan sequins; the Voiturin finding supper and beds for
four Persons, and likewise defraying the expense of bar-
riers, ferry-boats, guides, drivers, and mules. We paid a
couple of florins a day for our dinner, and one florin a day
to servants at inns, unless our carriages were guafded,
when we usually gave two florins, and we allowed three
sequins a day for the mules whenever we chose to stop.
Buonamano to the drivers was not included in our bargain,
and to these men (who behaved particularly well) we gave
sixty sequins." ^

Those who made the long journey from Hamburg to
Vienna — nearly five hundred and fifty miles — commonly
went in summer by way of Nuremberg and Ratisbon, and
if they chose they could go by public conveyance. The
conveyance was typical for the whole of Germany. "There
is a stage-coach, which sets out from Hamburg to Nuren-
berg on Saturday evening, at the shutting of the gates; it
goes through Brunswic, Wolfembuttel, Erfurt, Bamberg,
&c., and comes back to Hamburg on Tuesday morning.
This coach sets up at Hamburg at the Swan by the change.
'Tis common for travellers to agree with the coachman for
their provisions as well as for their passage. The fare is
settled thus: From Hamburg to Nurenberg for passage
and pro\'isions twenty dollars," etc.^ But we need hardly
follow the tedious detail to the end.

IV

The Low Countries

One could not go far in the diminutive Low Countries
without getting over the frontier, but within the narrow
limits one could travel a great deal and with great con-
venience. Much of the travel was by water, but there was

72

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

also considerable use of wheeled carriages. In Flanders,
as in Holland, canals were frequent; and "most of the
large towns" had "stage coaches, called diligences from
their expedition." ^ A tourist in 1773 indicated how keen
was the competition for passengers, and how impartial was
the award of the prize. "We left Helvoet on Monday
morning in a stage waggon. All the waggoners in town were
summoned by a bell, then dice shaken to see who should
get the fare. The price is fixed, therefore imposition is
impossible." ^

Post-wagons drawn by three horses went from most of
the principal towns and communicated with all parts of
Europe. The carriages were not unduly heavy and, says
Nugent, were "as expeditious as our stage-coaches."'
In going from Rotterdam to Antwerp one started at five
in the morning; the price for one's seat was nine guilders,
nine stivers, with fifteen pounds of baggage free. Every-
thing above that weight was charged one stiver a pound.*

There were regular days for the arrival and departure of
the post at and from Amsterdam, Brussels, The Hague,
Rotterdam, and various other points in Europe.^ Thus
the post arrived at Amsterdam on Sunday "from Germany,
Cologne, Cleves, Munster, Liege, Gelderland, etc." On
Tuesdays it came "towards noon" from Spain, Portugal,
France, Brabant, and Flanders. With Nugent's "Grand
Tour" in hand, the guide-book that chiefly supplanted
Misson's, the tourist could easily mark out his route and
select the proper conveyance. If he were at Arnheim, he
would find that there starts for "Cologne in Germany,
every Thursday morning a post-waggon from the Golden
Swan with goods and passengers to Emmerick, Wesel,
Dusseldorp, Solingen, Elberfelt, and reaches Cologne by
Saturday. On Saturday the post-waggon sets out from
Cologne for Arnheim from the Red Goose in the Egel-
stein, and passing through the above-mentioned places
arrives at Arnheim by Tuesday. ' ' ^ Likewise from Arnheim,
we are informed, there sets out for "Frankfort on the Mayn,
from the third of March till winter every Sunday morning a

73

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY CARRIAGES

post-waggon at seven o'clock, which reaches Frankfort the
next Friday." '

Those who preferred a private conveyance to these
democratic vehicles, could hire carriages gorgeous with
red velvet and drawn by horses making a fine appearance.^

When one hired a post-chaise for one's own use three
horses at least were required by law. But if more than
three had been taken for the first stretch, the extra number
must be paid for until the entire journey was at an*end.
"Our vanity," says Cogan, who was going from Utrecht to
Mainz, "induced us to take four horses " as far as Nimeguen.
When they arrived at Nimeguen, says he, they "were
obliged to continue, or at least to pay, for the same number;
nor could we get ourselves purged of this superfluous horse
until we arrived at Mentz. . . . We were first obliged to
take four horses; and secondly obliged to pay twelve guil-
ders for them; which together with the personal tax called
passagie gelt amounts to about twenty pence per mile for
horses alone." '

In most cities of the Low Countries a carriage of some
sort was easily obtainable. But at Amsterdam the tourist
could not ride in a coach "for fear of shaking the houses" *
— luiless he were a privileged person. At The Hague "very
handsome hackney-coaches" were to be had for a shilling a
drive, but chairs were lacking.^

74

CHAPTER VI

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

Once fairly started on his journey from city to city, the
tourist's next most important interest, so far as material
comfort went, was his food and lodging. Upon the
eighteenth-century inns travelers have much to remark.
Indeed, many of the older books of travel devote an inor-
dinate amount of space to the various houses of entertain-
ment — not in bestowing words of praise, but in enumer-
ating the shortcomings of the table or the furnishings.
When compared with the palaces now at the service of
travelers in every part of the world, few of the inns of
that day can be seriously considered as rivals: measured
by eighteenth-century standards, some were palatial in
their accommodations and quite good enough for guests of
any rank. But on the road between towns travelers put up
with such accommodations as they could get, and those
were often miserably inadequate. Matters generally im-
proved somewhat in the course of the eighteenth century,
but the remarks of Eustace hold true for the entire period
we are considering: "An English traveller must, the very
instant he embarks for the Continent, resign many of the
comforts and conveniencies which he enjoys at home. . . .
Great will be his disappointment if, on his arrival, he
expects a warm room, a newspaper, and a well-stored
larder. These advantages are common enough at home,
but they are not to be found in any inn on the Continent,
not even Dessenes ^ at Calais or the Maison Rouge at
Frankfort. But the principal and most offensive defect
abroad is the want of cleanliness, a defect in a greater or
less degree common to all parts of the Continent." ^

75

EIGHTEENTH CENTURY INNS

Other tourists toll the same story: " Aocommodations
all over the Coutinont" arc "vory itulitToront ; ... it is
scarcely possible for an invalid to sleep at au\' int\ out of a
>;Teat town \Nntho\it sxitTerii^i::." ' Wl\ore the i^eneral level
was so low no forethoui^ht could citable a traveler to tnake
sure of a satisfactory lods^Sni:.' though he nu^^ht seiul a
servant ahead to en^^ai^e the best that was to be had. As
nnght be expected, theiv was great variety in the character
of the accommodations to be found in ditlerent parts trf the
Continent, and an accurate general characterization is
thert^fore ahnost impossible. Holland, with its det\se pop-
ulation, its standards of neatness, and its ditYused wealth,
is at one e\tn.Mne. and Italy, ^^'ith its medieval hill townis
allording tilthy Uxls and ui\eatable food, is at the other.

The information supplied to travelers in eighteenth-
century g-uide-Kx^ks is often very suggestive, and nowhere
n\oa" so than in the passages relating to inns. We read: —
*'Tra\-ellers who go post should never permit the postillion
to drive them to such houses as he pleases; ahnost all of
them have secret motives to prefer some to others; there-
fore it would Ix" pnident to inquire of the post-masters, or
inn-keopers of the first reputation, for a list of the best
houses of accommodation."' "A traveller should always
lodge in the best imi. because, upon the whole, a good
lodging will not cost him much more, than if he had chosen
an indiiYerent one. and he will at least be better served, ^^^th
an additional security to his property, which is not always
the case in inferior inns."* "As soon as travellers enter
into an inn. they should immediately agree for the price of
the rvx>m. dinner, supper, firing, etc., and never neglect
this usefxil precaution; otherwise they will often be obliged
to pay for their negligence in that n?spect an extravagant
price, especially in Holland and Italy."*

Beds were of varied character in the countries usually
\'isited; so \*aried. indeed, that travelers, up to the end of
the eighteenth century, especially in Gennany and Italy,
were accustomed to c;vrry their owni bedding.* And even
where this might not be required, certain precautions

76

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

were not to be neglected. Berchtold is very specific in his
warnings : —

"Travellers being never sure whether the lodgers, who
slept in the beds before them, were not affected with the
itch, venereal or other disease, they should make use of a
preventive of infection: a light coverlet of silk, two pairs
of sheets, and two dressed hart's skins put together, six
feet six inches in length, three feet six inches in breadth,
should be always carried along with them in the box. The
hart's skin, which is put upon the mattresses, will hinder the
disagreeable contact, and prevent the noxious exhalations. "»
The ordinary sheets were laid upon the hart's skin. " Damp
beds are very often found in inns little visited, and in the
inns where fire is seldom made: they ought to be carefully
avoided. . . . Those who travel should examine the beds
to see whether they are quite dry, and have the bed-clothes
in their presence put before the fire. If the mattresses are
suspected, it will be preferable to lie down on dry and
clean straw." « "Feather beds and counterpanes of cotton
are very liable to collect noxious exhalations; for this rea-
son those who travel ought to make use of the hart skins,
described under the remarks on Inns." ^

To avoid other risks, " It is of the greatest importance to
travellers always to have a room to be in alone, and never
allow any person (well-known people excepted) to sleep in
the same apartment, unless absolute necessity compels
them." '* All readers of the concluding chapter of Sterne's
"Sentimental Journey" will recall the embarrassing episode
growing out of the necessity of assigning the same sleeping-
apartment to tourists of opposite sex.

The perils of travel are considered in a subsequent chap-
ter, but we here note: "In lonesome country inns, where
safety ought always to be suspected, it will be better to per-
mit the servant to sleep in the same room, and to have a
wax candle burning the whole night. . . . Pocket door-
bolts in the form of a cross are applicable to almost all
sorts of doors, and may on many occasions save the life of
the traveller, where desperate attempts may be made by

77

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

needy assassins. ..." Nervous travelers, we learn, may
put the table w4th chairs on it against the door if bolts are
lacking. "Such precautions, are, however, less necessary in
England, but on the Continent they are much more so."

"It \^^ll not be amiss in such lonesome places, where
accidents may oblige a traveller to remain the whole night,
to show his fire-arms to the landlord in a familiar discourse,
Vknthout acquainting him of his well-grounded suspicion of
insecurity; and to tell him, with a courageous lool*, that
you are not afraid of a far superior number of enemies." '

In view of the foregoing warnings we see that not all
inns were models of comfort and that they forced travelers
to pro\'ide somewhat minutely for personal needs. There
is, in fact, no more strilcing conmientary on the general lack
on the Continent of ordinary articles of comfort, not to say
luxury, than the list of necessaries suggested for the use of
travelers. As late as 1798 Mariana Starke recommends all
sorts of things for every family to be pro\dded with on
leaving England; among them sheets, pillows, blankets,
towels, pistols, a pocket-knife to eat v\4th, soup, tea, salt,
spoons, a tea-and-sugar chest, loaf-sugar, mustard, Cay-
enne-pepper, ginger, nutmegs, oatmeal, sago, plenty of
medicines, etc., etc.*

II

French Inns

In cleanliness^ and comfort English inns were on the
whole regarded as superior to the French, though the
latter were commonly praised by travelers.* Comfort, as
elsewhere pointed out, was far less generally dillused
throughout Europe in the eighteenth century than now,
abounding greatly in one district while strangely lacking
in another. But the English were the wealthiest people in
Europe, except perhaps the Dutch, and everyw^here insisted
upon the best that was to be had. No mere chance was it,
therefore, that Dcssein's Inn at Calais, where swanns of
English tourists landed, was one of the most extensive in

78

KHiUTKKNTU CKN'I (]P»Y liNNS

Europe, wilh ":;fiuarcs, ^^'^^(]cnH, shopf^ of all kinf]:^, work-
shops, and a handsome theatre." ' Entertainment of tour-
ists was, indeed, on a large scale at Calais, though the town
was small. Essex counted the II/;tel d'Angletcrre one of
the best in France. From forty to fifty carriages were
always ready for guests.'

In Inrgf; towns good accommodations were usually to he
found, and if it were our business to make lists ^ we might
enumerate scores of inns that provided everything one
could reasonably fx.sk.'' Some were almost unreasonably
good. Such was the inn at Chalons, with nx^ms "furnished
throughout with silk and damask, the very linings of the
rooms and bed covers nr^t excepted." '' Still better was the
Hotel de Henri IV, at Nantes, over which even the h/jber
Young waxes enthusiastic and inclines to think "the
finest inn in Europe." "It cost," says he, "400,000 liv.
(17,500/.; furnished, and is let at 14,000 liv. per ann. (612/.
lo.s.), with no rent for the first year. It contains 60 beds
for masters, and 25 stalls for horses. Some of the apart-
ments of two rooms, very neat, are 6 liv. a day; one good
3 liv., but for merchants 5 liv. per diem for dinner, supper,
wine, and chamber, and 35/. for his horse. It is without
comparison, the first inn I have seen in France, and very
cheap." "

Not merely were palatial establishments of this sort, to
be founrl here and there, but many neat and comfortable
little hostelries, of small pretensions and "of the second
rank in appearance," that were nevertheless "much the
most comfortable for travellers of the sober sort." '

But it would be a serious error to suppose that every inn
in France was a model. We mu.st not forget that France
before the Revolution suffered much actual misery, par-
ticularly in the provinces. No traveler could fail trj see
some trace of it, and he was fortunate if he had nothing to
sufTcr himself. Many provincial inns simply continued
throughout the eighteenth century the state of things exist-
ing in the seventeenth century, when travel was difficult and
inns were ill-kept because little patronized. Babeau cites

79

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

Abraham Goelnitz, who in 1631 went through France on
foot and on horseback, often going out of the beaten track.
He notes : "In certain villages, in certain towns even in the
center of France, the inns lack everything. One can hardly
find bread and a fire. Beds are wanting." '

Particularly defective were "the post-houses," which,
as one traveler in 1776 remarks, "are not always places of
reception as with us: many of them are ordinary farm-
houses ; and when they are inns, they are f requentljv very
indifferent." ^ In this matter, as in others. Young may
be trusted to tell the truth as it was. At Moulins, in the
Loire region, "I went," says he, "to the Belle Image, but
found it so bad that I left it and went to the Lyon d'Or,
which is worse. This capital of the Bourbonnois, and on the
great post road to Italy, has not an inn equal to the little
village of Chavanne." ^ What one might encounter ofi the
main routes may be judged from Young's experience at
Saint-Girons * in the Basses Pyrenees, a town of four or
five thousand inhabitants, where he was forced to put up
at a public house undeserving the name of inn. "A
wretched hag, the demon of beastliness, presides there. I
laid [!] not rested, in a chamber over a stable, whose efiSu-
viae [!] through the broken floor were the least offensive of
the perfumes afforded by this hideous place. It could give
me but two stale eggs, for which I paid exclusive of all
other charges, 20/. . . . But the inns all the way from
Nismes are wretched, except at Lodeve, Gange, Carcasonne,
and Mirepoix." ^

Of the road near Mayres in Ard^che he says: "It con-
ducts, according to custom, to a miserable inn, but with a
large stable." * After dining one day at Viviers and passing
the Rhone, he remarks: "After the wretched inns of the
Vivarais, dirt, filth, bugs, and starving, to arrive at the
Hotel de Monsieur, at Montilimart, a great and excellent
inn, was something like the arrival in France from Spain." '

With Young's comments before us we may be the more
inclined to give credence to the peppery Smollett, whose
journey antedates Young 's by about a quarter of a century,

80

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

and who declares that "Through the whole south of
France, except in large cities, the inns are cold, damp,
dark, dismal, and dirty; the landlords equally disobliging
and rapacious; the servants aukward, sluttish and sloth-
ful." '

Particularly shocking to travelers of our day would ap-
pear the entire lack of sanitary conveniences. In fact,
until very recently Gallic ideals in matters of personal
cleanliness and sanitation have called forth unfavorable
comment from English tourists, but the state of things
in the eighteenth century one can hardly venture to de-
scribe.^ Smollett has a fragrant passage on the "temple
of Cloacina" connected with the inn at Nimes which
cannot be quoted, but which is worthy the attention of
the inquiring reader.^

Englishmen were inclined also to be critical about French /

beds. Nugent warns the traveler : " After you have passed
Boulogne, you will not find the beds like ours in England;
for they raise them very high with several thick mattresses :
their linen is ill-washed and worse dried, so that you must
take particular care to see the sheets aired." ^

With more particularity another Englishman comments
on the beds in inns: "Two of them are always placed in
the same room: they consist of a bed of straw at the bot-
tom, then a large mattrass, then a feather-bed, then an-
other large mattrass, upon which are the blankets, etc.,
with all which, the bed is so high, that a man with great
difficulty climbs into it; and, if he were to tumble out of
it by mischance, he would be in danger of breaking his
bones upon a brick floor." ^

But every traveler was tempted to magnify his experi-
ence and to regard it as typical. If he found in one city
that the "beds seemed stuffed with potatoes rather than
feathers," ^ he easily assumed that French beds were usu-
ally of the same sort. It is well to remember that Arthur
Young distinctly says: "Beds are better in France; in
England they are good only at good inns ; and we have none
of that torment, which is so perplexing in England, to have

8i

KlGHrEENTH-CENTUKY INNS

the shoots airod." ' Boyoiui qviostioti, howevor. ii\ Fronoh
beds the hirkins; dovouror was only too common, and made
the unseasoned traveler w-rithe. Stenie went i'rotn Paris
to Nimos in i;oj at\d sutTered the usual experietuvs of the
strani^er. "Good God! we were toasted, roasted. j;riird,
stow'd. and carbonaded on one side or other all the way —
aiid boiuL; all done enough (ikwws: cta'ts) in the day, wo were
ate up at nij;ht by bugs, and other unswept out vennin,
the legal inhabitants (if length of possession gives right)
of every iim we lay at." '

But if French beds evoked occasional criticism, not nuich
was to be urged against the Frencli table — at its best.
Then as now French cookery was famous and to most Eng-
lish tourists it came as a revelation. "The common cook-
ery of the French." says Young, "gives great advantage.
It is tnie they roast every thing to a chip, if they are not
cautioned, but they give such a number and variety of
dislics, that if you do not like some there are others to
please your palate. The desert at a Fretich inn has no
rival at an English one." '

Yet at the wayside inn h\ France the tourist not infre-
quently encountered gastronomic horrors, or what were
such to him; and even at well-kept houses more than one
English tourist longed for the fleshpots of his island home —
the plain boiled greens, the plain boiled mutton, and the
unadorned roasts of his native land, guiltless of sauces and
naked in their simplicity, in preference to the most ambi-
tious productions of the French chef. ■• Of such was Smollett,
who. when complaints were to be made, rarely failed. "I
and my family could not well dispense with our toast in
the morning, and had no stomach to cat at noon. For my
owni part. I hate the French cookery, and abominate gar-
lick. \\'ith which all their ragouts in this part of the country
are highly seasoned." ' But Smollett stood by no means
alone. Horace Walpole writes to West from Paris in 1739:
"At dinner they give you three courses; but a third of the
dishes is patched up with sallads, butter, puff-paste, or some
such miscarriage of a dish." ^

8a

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

In these messes there was a ^reat show of viands, but on
the tables of too many inns there was no superabundance
of real food, and there was no shadow of doubt as to when
the meal had come to a conclusion. An Englishman who
had lived lon^^ abroad comments sharply in "A Description
of Holland" ' upon the ni^^^^ardly supply of eatables af-
forded by many French innkeepers : "They have not heart
to provide hands^-jmly for their j^uests, and are so saving
and penurious, the foible and habit of their nation, that
they count every bit one puts into one's mouth. They are
as well pleased to see their dishes not touched, as a hearty
English landlord is displeased, when he thinks his guest
does not like his victuals." Another earlier fault-finder
observes: *"Tis a great inconvenience to travel in France
upon a fish-day; for 'tis a hard matter to get anything to
eat but stinking fish or rotten eggs." ^

A common and well-grounded complaint was that the
drinking-water was often unfit for use, particularly at
Paris, where the supply was drawn from the narrow and
dirty Seine,' and had to be filtered. Those who could
afford it drank Eau de Roy from Ville d'Avray.*

English tourists were cautioned also not to go to France
without a knife and fork, for, says "The Gentleman's
Guide," ^ "if you neglect taking [them] with you, you'll
often run the risk of losing your dinner."

Still another opportunity for criticism was afforded by
the usual hour for dinner. To gentlemen who felt bound
to conform to French conventions in order to be admitted
to society, the noon dinner, "customary all over France,
except by persons of considerable fashion at Paris," ap-
peared a serious waste of time." "We dress for dinner in
England with propriety," says Young, "as the rest of the
day is dedicated to ease, to converse, and relaxation; but
by doing it at noon too much time is lost. What is a man
good for after his silk breeches and stockings are on, his
hat under his arm, and his head bien poudreV And we
must grant that Young is right.

This rapid glance at the eighteenth-century French inn

83

KlcniTEENTH CENTURY INNS

is porha{\s sutrioiont to otmMo us to ronli::o its main foattiros.
But wo must ixMuombor that as a usual thiui: the inn was
for the accommodation of the transient v::iiest. Strangers
tnakiTii: a oonsidorablo stay abroad commonly found quar-
ters in a private house. As we shall see later, Rheims,
Tours. Montpellier, Toulouse, Dijon, and other proxnncial
cities attracted many Kti^lish tourists for weeks and even
months at a time and atYorded comfortable li\-ini: at prices
that Enj^lishmen could hardly imagine possible. Most
English tourists six^nt as much time as they could afford
in Paris, and if they had an eye to economy they set up a
modest establishment of their own in hitvd lodgings. Fron\
Nugent 's handbook on the grand tour they could leani
paxnsely what they tnight expect and what they would
have to furnish: "Vou will hardly get an apartment to
please you up two pair of stairs for less than 15 or :o lixTCS
a week. . . . Your servant, for about t\f teen shillings. Eng-
lish, will immediately set you up for a housekeeper, by
buvii\g vou a tii\ tea-kettle, some charcoal, ai\d a dish,
some tea-cups, saucers, niilk-pot. a decanter, and about
half a dozen glasses : ho \y\\\ also buy you French rolls and
sugar, and good hyson tea for about 17 li\Tes a pound:
and so much for breakfast. With regard to your dimiers
and suppers, if you choose to live in a family way. you had
best have them drest and sent in by a cook, or from a
tavern to your lodgings, at your owti hour, and he will
find you linen and knives. For eight li\Tcs a day, you may
have for diiiner two good dishes and a soop, which will
serve four in company, and servants." ^

III

Italian Inns

In the low quality of the inns the greater part of Italy
was a close rival to the most neglected regions of Europe.
The comments in books of travel on the shortcomings of
It-alian inns, pvarticularly those of countrv towns, present

84

EIGHTP:ENTH CENTURY INNS

no very invitinj^ picture. Some criticism doubtless means
little more than that the ways of the inns were Italian rather
than lirij'lish. But at best the averaj.^e hostelry left much
U) be desired. Eu.stacc had an extended experience through-
out the peninsula, and he remarks: "In Italy . . . the little
country inns are dirty, but the ^^reater inns, particularly
in Rome, Naples, Florence, and Venice, are good, and in
general the linen is clean, and the beds are excellent. As
for diet, in country towns, the traveller will find plenty of
provisions, though seldom prepared according to his taste." *
Even the fastidious De Brosses is moved to protest against
indiscriminate condemnation of the accommodations pro-
vided for travelers in Italy. "Everybody says that the
inns of Italy are detestable. That is not true. One is very
well entertained in the better towns. In the villages, to
be sure, one is badly off; but that is no marvel, it is the
same in France." '

But the comments of Dr. Moore probably express the
actual effect of Italian hotels upon the average, inexperi-
enced English tourist. "Strangers . . . whose senses are
far more powerful than their fancy, when they arc so ill-
advised as to come so far from home, generally make this
journey in very ill humour, fretting at Italian Ijcds, fuming
against Italian cooks, and execrating every poor little
Italian flea that they meet with on the road." " Dr. Moore
possibly had in mind the English tourist Sharp, who cer-
tainly expresses no great delight over his experiences:
"We arrived at this place [Rome], after a journey of seven
days, with accommodations uncomfortable enough. Give
what scope you please to your fancy, you will never imagine
half the disagreeableness that Italian beds, Italian cooks,
Italian post-horses, Italian postilions, and Italian nasti-
ness offer to an Englishman in an Italian journey; much
more to an English woman. At Turin, Milan, Venice,
Rome, and, perhaps, two or three other towns, you meet
with good accommodation; but no words can express the
wretchedness of the other inns. No other bed but one of
straw, and next to that a dirty sheet, sprinkled with water,

8S

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

and, consequently, damp; for a covering you have another
sheet, as coarse as the first, and as coarse as one of our
kitchen jack-towels, w4th a dirty coverlet. The bedsted
consists of four wooden forms, or benches; An English
Peer and Peeress must lye in this manner, unless they carry
an upholsterer's shop with them, which is very trouble-
some. There are, by the bye, no such things as curtains,
and hardly, from Venice to Rome, that cleanly and most
useful invention, a privy; so that what should be coll<?cted
and buried in oblivion, is for ever under your nose and
eyes." *

Sharp goes on to damn the dirtiness of the pewter plates
and dishes, as well as the tablecloths and napkins. The
food is \'ile. "The bread all the way is exceedingly bad, and
the butter so rancid, it cannot be touch'd, or even borne
within the reach of our smell." - " But what is a greater evil
to travelers than any of the above recited, though not pe-
culiar to the Loretto road, is the infinite number of gnats,
bugs, fleas, and lice, which infest us by night and by day.
You mil grant, after this description of the horrors of an
Italian journey, that one ought to take no small pleasure
in treading on classic ground: yet, believe me, I have not
caricatured; every article of it is literally true." ^

Sharp certainly appears to speak from a full heart, and
his Italian critic Baretti practically admits that the charges
are in part true. But he points out that Sharp went by an
"imfrequent road to Rome," and that he might easily
have obtained from Italians of good social position letters
of introduction to their friends along the road "who would
have occasionally accommodated him better than he was
at the inns, where his Vetturino thought proper to carry
him; to which inns few Italians of any note resort." * They
stay, says Baretti, with their friends, or put up at convents.

Baretti's defense of his compatriots, in this as in some
other cases, does not squarely meet the criticism of fair-
minded tourists, who had already anticipated in the sev-
enteenth century about all that was said against the inns
of the eighteenth century. "The inns are wretched and

86

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

ill -furnished," says Burnet, "both for lodging and diet;
this is the plague of all Italy, when once one hath pass'd
the Appennines; for except in the great towns, one really
suffers so much that way, that the pleasure of travelling
is much abated by the inconveniences that one meets in
every stage through which he passes." '

Misson's general estimate agrees with Burnet's: "Tis
by no means convenient to travel in companies in Italy;
the inns are so miserable that oftentimes they can neither
accommodate their guests with meat nor beds, when they
are too numerous." ^

Nugent improves upon Misson, whose phrasing he slightly
varies but without acknowledging his source: "But 'tis
very improper to travel in large companies in Italy, for
the inns are generally so very miserable that oftentimes
they can find neither beds nor provisions when the com-
pany is too numerous. To prevent therefore the inconven-
iences of a bad lodging, those that do not carry a complete
bed with them ought at least to make a provision of a light
quilt, a pillow, a coverlet, and two very fine bed-cloths,
that they may make but a small bundle." One may travel
very easily with these conveniences rolled up in a sack,
lined with waxed cloth, three and a half feet high, and less
than two in diameter, when full; which, being light, is
easily carried with the portmanteau and is of no charge.
"However, if this should appear troublesome, 'tis advis-
able at least to travel with sheets, and upon coming to an
indifferent inn you may call for fresh straw and lay a clean
sheet over it." ^

On this matter the English tourist Sharp remarks: "It
is curious to observe how careless they are of damp sheets
all through Italy, and the people at inns are so little ap-
prised of an objection to damp sheets that when you begin
to beg they would hang them before the fire, they desire
you will feel how wet they are, being prepossessed that
you mean they have not been washed." ^ Sharp was an
inveterate faiilt-finder, whom Baretti rightly took to task
for misrepresentation, but even Baretti admits: "The

87

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

beds indeed you mil find bad enough in many places; and
you must have a care never to sleep but in your own sheets,
because the inn-keepers, when they are poor, are generally
ill-provided, and are even rogues into the bargain, that will
swear no body has slept in the sheets they offer, though
the contrary is very apparent; nor will it be amiss to have
a thin mattress of your own, stuffed with feathers or Span-
ish wool, to throw over the mattresses of the inn." ^

Of Italian beds the English tourist James Edward
Smith is one of the few defenders: "In justice to the poor
traduced inns of Italy, I think it right to mention here
that for the first time," in a Httlc village twenty-two miles
from Viterbo, "we r:ci with damp sheets, and were obliged
to have them dried. I do not think I ever discovered dirty
sheets in Italy, though always very scrupulous in my ex-
aminations on that head. England is certainly the most
indelicate of all civilized nations with respect to bed and
table linen. Our great inns are less to be trusted about
sheets than any abroad." ^

In many other ways the inns were sadly lacking in the
most elementary comfort. Smollett and his party went to
the inn at San Remo, said to be the best in the place: "We
ascended by a dark, narrow, steep stair, into a kind of
public room, with a long table and benches, so dirty and
miserable that it would disgrace the worst hedge ale-house
in England. Not a soul appeared to receive us. This is a
ceremony one must not expect to meet with in France, far
less in Italy." At last they got some poor rooms, very
badly furnished, and bad food. He adds: "You must not
expect cleanliness or conveniency of any land in this coun-
try. For this accommodation I payed as much as if I
had been elegantly entertained in the best auberge of
France or Italy." ^

The food was commonly of wretched quality, except in
the large towns, and one was advised to pick up food for
luncheons on the way.* Even the large cities could not
unifonnly be depended upon to make the passing tourist
comfortable. Genoa was styled "the superb," but "the

88

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

inns of Genoa," we are told, "afford but indifferent accom-
modations. The wine is not very excellent, though they
have it in sealed bottles from the vaults of the republic."*

The main roads to Rome were more traveled than, per-
haps, any others in Italy, but we have numberless com-
plaints that the inns were abominable. Travelers going
on the main road to Rome from Siena had at least to halt
at Acquapendcntc. Here, says one tourist: "We were told
that the man who kept the hostry where we inn'd was the
most wealthy person in the place. He had only two or three
ragged servants, and waited at table himself." ^ All the
way, in fact, "from Sienna to Aquapendente," says Keysler,
"... the post-houses stand single, and afford but very
indifferent entertainment." ^

Even worse, if possible, was the condition of affairs on
the central route from Rome to Florence through Terni
and Perugia. As we might expect, that chronic grumbler
Smollett on this route quite outdoes himself in describing
some of his places of entertainment: "Great part of this
way lies over steep mountains, or along the side of preci-
pices, which render travelling in a carriage exceeding tedi-
ous, dreadful, and dangerous; and as for the public houses,
they are in all respects the most execrable that ever I
entered. I will venture to say that a common prisoner in
the Marshalsea or King's-Bench is more cleanly and com-
modiously lodged than we were in many places on this road.
The houses are abominably nasty, and generally destitute
of provision; when eatables were found we were almost
poisoned by their cookery: their beds were without cur-
tains or bedstead, and their windows without glass; and
for this sort of entertainment we payed as much as if we
had been genteelly lodged and sumptuously treated. I
repeat again; of all the people I ever knew, the Italians
are the most villainously rapacious." *

In going from Perugia to Florence, over the mountains,
he put up at "a small village, the name of which," he says,
"I do not remember. The house was dismal and dirty
beyond all description; the bed-cloaths filthy enough to

89

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

turn the stomach of a muloteor; and the \nctuals cooked
in such a manner that ovoti a Hottentot could not have
beheld them without loathing." •

All this is movinj: enoui^h. Rut to some extent the ex-
perience of the traveler was shaped b}* chance. Unfamiliar
with the country or the language he was often as likely to
get the worst accommodations as the best. The irascible
Sharp was as ready to complain as Smollett, but even
Sharp, on roiurning from Rome to Florence, finds endufable
inns along the road. He \\Tites from Florence. "We ar-
rived here last night, after a journey of four days from
Rome, and found much more agreeable accommodations
than we experienced cither on the road to Rome from
Venice, or to Naples from Rome; indeed, to do justice to
the inns, we met with so much cleanliness, and such good
beds, that we found ourselves most agreeably disappointed
in these articles."^ And again: "The country from Bo-
logna to this place [Alexandria] is a delightful, fertile plain,
and the accommodations so much better than those we
meet \\'ith on the road to Rome by the way of Loretto,
that I desire you will make the distinction betwixt my
journey thither and my return, whenever you give a char-
acter of Italy from my letters." ^

Bad as were the majority of the country inns north of
Rome, those between Rome and Naples were worse, and
they called forth endless complaints.* In general, observes
Gorani, "the inns of these Icingdoms" — Naples and
Sicily — "do not deserve to bear the name. Nothing is to
be found there but water, bad \nne. and bread still worse." *
On the road between Rome and Naples "they gave us for
supper." says Misson. "cheese made vnth the milk of
bullies; and we were forced to lie upon mattresses, which,
I think, were made with stones of peaches."' "All the
way to Naples." says the querulous Sharp, "we never once
crept within the sheets, not daring to encounter the vermin
and nastiness of those beds." ^ He elsewhere observes:
"Some of the inns on this road exceed in tilth and bad ac-
commodations all that I have ever written on that subject

90

EIGHTEENTH CENTURY INNS

before: I do sincerely believe, that they no more think of
wiping flown a cobweb in a bed-chamber, than our farmers
do of sweeping them away in an old bam." ^ He speaks
of whole ceilings covered with spiders.

The ill-kept inns merely reflected the sluttishness of the
inhabitants, which must have been notable to call forth the
following outh)urst from the usually genial Burnet: "It
amazes a stranger to see in their little towns the whole men
of the town walking in the market-places in their torn
cloaks, and doing nothing. And tho' in ^:ome big towns,
such as Capua, there is but one inn, yet even that is so
miserable that the bcjit room and bed in it is so bad that
our footmen in England would make a grievous outcry if
they were no better lodged. Nor is there any thing to be
had in them; the wine is intolerable, the bread ill-baked,
no victuals, except pigeons, and the oil is rotten. In short,
except one carries his whole provision from Rome or
Naples, he must resolve to endure a good deal of misery in
the four days' journey that is between those two places." '
What was true of the inns along the great road between
Rome and Naples was tenfold worse in the extreme South,
where tourists never ventured.

With these facts before us we may be led to do injustice
to the inns in the larger towns and cities where tourists
made their longer stay. There were some well-known
hotels at Venice, at Florence, at Bologna,^ and elr^ewhere.
But De Brosses tells us that at Rome the Aubcrge du
Mont d'Or, in the Piazza di Spagna, was perhaps the only
good inn for strangers in the city. He adds in explanation
that it was not customary to live at a hotel except just
long enough to enable one to find a furnished room else-
where.* In Rome travelers generally lodged in or near the
Piazza di Spagna, which has to this day remained a popular
quarter with foreigners. Nugent names some of the best
inns at Rome. "But," he adds, "those who intend to make
any stay had better hire furnished apartments, which are
very reasonable; for you may be accommodated with a
palazzo, as they call it, or a handsome furnished house for

91

KRailKKNlH CKNinUY INNS

about :>ix j^uiiuws a tuotUh." ' Tho tourist who wout to
Naploswas iutoruM\l that " thoCardiiial's Hat aud thoTtuvo
Kiii|isfu\^ ivokot\i\l tho host iiuis iu Naples,' at which houses
tho ICnv^lish i^outlotuou ooinnuM\ly lodi'.o. Tho apart mouts
au^ iuvlitYotvnt. but tho aoov^muodatious oxtronioly .;;ooil,
auvl tho i\x^ks i^otuTalh' oxoollout. The folloNvinj; aro sonio
pivoautiot\s that may bo ot" sorviLV to travollors. It auy
.v:oi\tlonuin itUouds to inako a oot\sidorablo stay hot\\ tho
bost way will bo to tako a rt\uiy -furnished lodi^iuv: nii or
near ;" " >>' Ac c'.istollo. fron\ whence there is a beauti-
ful pi> .\ . [\\c soa It is a tine open place, with several
i:ood inns near it, frvnn whoutv provisiotis tnay bo had well
dn\ssed. and sent hot at any time. As to wine, then^ are
mai^y omiiiont tnerchants who have noble eollars. and very
cool, where variety of wines may be had o\coodin>;ly cheap:
for tlnvo shillii\.i;s at\d iliriV-pont.v a barrel of e\eollot\t wine,
CvMUainin.^ nine v^allons. may be boui^ht. This him will bo
of servi(.v to those who diuse a private apa.rtniet\t of their
own. rather than a public inn. Stran>;ers should be very
careful in their transactions with the lower class <'>f people,
who have tho art of docciNnuj; in a superlative doi^ax^.
lloa^ an^ also a par\\4 of follows who speak a little !>rokon
ICni^lish. and will otYor their sorvuvs as piidos. or n.iK; s.
but the Neapolitans of this class exceed their fraternity
in all other places in knavery." *

At Venicv\ too. Nui^ent adN-ises "those who ii\totul to
sp^Mui some months" there "to hiiv a furnished house.
Then.^ an^ a.lways some apart ti\ents to be let in the Trocura-
tie. which itukwl is the dean^st. but at the same titne tl\e
finest, part of the unv.i "*■ In general, he ivcotnmotuls
takint: furnished aparnueuts in "most other places."

As already observed, the food to l->o obtained at wayside
inns was. to Englisli travelers, almost uneatable. Generally
the kitchen was the least inviting: part of the imi — dirty,
ill-kept, and ill-supplied.* Burnet's remarks^ late in the
sovontciMUh century, held true in many districts until the
end of the eiv;hteonth: "A traveller in many places linds
almost nothing, and is so ill funiished that if he docs not

91

EIGirTEENTH-CENTUHY fNNS

buy provisions in the }^rr;at towns, he will be (Ajhy/-/] to a
very :;f;vf:rc <hoX, in a ajuntry that he ::hould tPjink fiow'f]
with milk and honey." '

At all cvf-.nt;, touri;:t:; v/ho consulted their own comfort
fJid not tru;:t the larder of the wayside inn or even that of
the more jjretentious hoi^telry in town;; of con::iderable :;ize.
Mariana Starke's party, when goinj^ to J^alcstrina, to^^k
provisions with them, thou^^h, as she says, the inn was
"not very bad." "J'he inn at Frascati was "tolerably
j(oor]," but it was "advisable . . . for travellers to carry
cold meat with them."* And this was late in the <:\'/ht-
eenth century.

But in the days of slow and crjstly transportation, the
traveler who could not carry a kitchen and a storehouse;
with him was usually compelled to accept the unmodified
fare of each district, and this naturally varied with every
postinj^-station. In any case, the wealthy Eny]i:\hrn:in,
accustomed to a j^enerous table with abundance of meat,
found the usual Italian fare very meaner, and he was not
reconciled to the lack of roast beef and mutt/jn by the
abundance of salad and macaroni. The difference in l*:^n;,^-
lish and Italian temperament and habits was fundamental.
"Few Italians," says Baretti, "can endure beef at their
tables. Many Enj<lish ministers residing at our courts anrl
many Enj^lish gentlemen habituated in the country, find-
ing the beef to their taste in fx^veral parts of Italy, have
kindly endeavoured U) bring it into fashion, and would
persuade us to eat it roasted." ' The place of lxx;f was
supplied by "kid, dressed in various manners, the staple
food of the Italian travellers, and which is often so various
in quality, that some have thought its place is occasionally
supplied by a canine repref^;ntative." *

In the midflle of the nineteenth century, we are told,
"Butter was nearly unknown in Rome forty years since.
There is now, however, a large dairy near the tomb to
Cecilia Metella, where it may be had very good. This
progress is owing to the arrival at Rome of numerous Eng-
lish travellers. As the Roman flairies, however, do not pro-

93

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

vide suflicicnt duriui:: the wnntor. a certain quantity is re-
ceived from Lombardy.' The price is then thirty bajocchi *
per pound, but in the summer it is only fourteen." '

Another notable fact is cited by Baretti in 1766: "We
have not yet the use of potatoes. An EngHsh consul in
Venice cultivates them with good success in his fine garden
not far from Mestre, a place about five miles from Venice:
but few of his Italian guests vAW touch them." *

As a striking hint of what might be lacking in realty re-
mote parts of the country we may note that at the very
end of the eighteenth century the suggestion is made that:
"Families who remove from Naples to the neighborhood
of Sorrento during the summer season would do well to
take with them vN-ine, vinegar, candles, soap, sugar, tea,
coffee, and medicines." * Yet Sorrento is only across the
bay from Naples. At Naples itself tea and sugar were
very dear.^

Even at Tivoli, four or five hours' drive from Rome, and
very much frequented, one fared badly. "Persons who
care much about eating should talce meat, bread, and unne,
with them, as fish and eggs are the only provision likely to
be found at Tivoli." ' In our own day the entertainment
set before the transient guest at Tivoli is far from ideal.

Beyond all question, the English tourist who wished to
be even moderately satisfied with his daily food was well
advised to keep close to the main centers of supply. And
in cities like Turin and Milan and Venice and Padua and
Florence and Rome he had small ground for complaint.
The bread of Padua, the wdne of Vicenza, the tripe of Tre-
viso were proverbially good.^ Moreover, we may well be-
lieve, that under favorable conditions an eighteenth-century
tourist who gave himself the necessary trouble could, in
most of the larger Italian cities, secure quarters that were
reasonably satisfactory, except perhaps in mnter. But
what average comfort in winter meant in Italy we may
judge from the fact that Goethe's room in Naples had no
fireplace and no chimney, though he was there in Feb-
ruary.'-' Walpole sutlcred greatly from the cold in Flor-

94

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

encc, and that, too, in the house of an ambassador. In any
case, if the tourist chose to play the part of an explorer ofT
the beaten track, he found himself compelled to live like a
half-starved peasant and to submit to hardships for which
he was entirely unprepared.

IV

Inns in Germany

Many of the inns of Germany put a severe strain upon
the patience of the tourist. In the larger towns he could
find tolerable accommodations, and in a few cities he fared
as well as anywhere in Europe. At Frankfort, for example,
he could go to the Emperor or the Red House, which, "for
cleanliness, conveniency, and number of apartments," vied
"with the most magnificent inns in England." ^ Possibly
one reason for the prosperity of the Frankfort inns was
that they claimed as a guest every stranger who arrived
in the city. "The innkeepers," we are told, "will not allow
a stranger to take up his quarters at a private house, even
though he eats at his inn." ^ Among the cities having inns
of high reputation we may note Halberstadt, which in our
day is merely a small city with an interesting cathedral and
quaint, half-timbered houses. But a century and a half
ago it boasted an inn which was in the same class with the
Three Kings at Augsburg, and one of the largest in Eu-
rope.^ As for Augsburg, "there are," says Nugent, "sev-
eral good inns in the city, as the Imperial Court, the Crown,
the King of the Romans; but the Three Kings is one of the
best houses in Germany, and by some reckoned the most
magnificent inn in Europe. Here the nobility assemble
commonly every evening in a fine hall well lighted, where
they game, sup and dance." ■* Nuremberg, too, afforded
already in the time of Misson comfortable entertainment
for the passing stranger, and so did Munich and Dresden
and Berlin.

The inns of Vienna were variously judged, according to

95

FIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

the tourist's cxporiotico. but tlioy had a reputation for
ovorcharjiini::, which is fairly inaiutaiuod in our day. The
tourist was ad\'ised: "There arc a jn*eat many very good
inns at Vienna, as the Court of Bavaria, the Golden Crown,
the Black Kaj^le, the Black Elephant, etc., but in v^encral
they are very dear. Those who have occasioti to be careful
in their expenses should therefore board in private houses
if they intend to make any stay in this capital." ' Mariana
Starke, at the end of the century, is less complimcnfai-y :
"The inns of this City are bad and dear; Wolf's is deemed
the best, and The White Bull once was tolerable; but
the present nuister is so notorious a Cheat as not to scruple,
after making; a clear bari;:ain, to de\-iatc from it in every
particular; besides which, his dinners are so bad that it is
scarcely possible to eat them. Indeed, the only way of liv-
ing comfortably at Vienna is to take a private lodging." ^
At Hamburg, says the same writer, the inns were "neither
good nor cheap." . . . Private lodgings could be obtained ;
though, like the inns, they were "bad imd dear." '

But the worst accommodations in the cities were luxu-
rious in comparison with what was to be found in some of
the country districts. Says a tourist in the latter part of
the century, "Nothing can be more UTctched than the
country you pass through in travelling through West-
phalia; the wTctched inhabitants uniting poverty with
pride, live v\-ith their hogs in mud-walled cottages, a dozen
of which is called, b}' courtesy, a village, surrounded by
black heaths, and wild uncultivated plains, over which the
unresisted winds sweep \%-ith a velocity scarce to be con-
ceived." * This picture is highly colored and not so flatter-
ing as some contemporary Gennan estimates of Westphalia,
but conditions in that region were, at all events, not ar-
ranged primarily for the tourist. "In the small \'illagcs,"
says Ricsbeck. "there are no inns, and a man is forced to
put up with the small fanners, who have nothing to set
before him but brandy or potatoes, or some salted bacon
and brown bread made of bran." * The bacon, it may be
remarked, was cured in the house, which had "no outlet

96

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

for smoke but the door." " In regard to bed, [the traveller]
must tumble pon-mell in a lar^e kind of bam, where the
landlord and landlady, men and maidservants, and pas-
sengers of both sexes, cows, sheep, and horses pig all
to^^ethcr on the ground; and happy he that's accommo-
dated with comfortable clean straw. ... In cities or
large towns one is somewhat better entertained; though
there is little occasion to commend their very best ac-
commodations." *

Lady Mary Montagu traveled through Germany in 17 16,
and, writing from Cologne, says: "We hired horses from
Nimeguen hither, not having the conveniency of the post,
and found but very indifferent accommodations at Rein-
berg, our first stage; but that was nothing to what I suf-
fered yesterday. We were in hopes to reach Cologn; our
horses tired at Stamel, three hours from it, where I was
forced to pass the night in my clothes, in a room not at all
better than a hovel; for though I have my own bed with
me, I had no mind to undress, where the wind came from a
thousand places." *

When she reached Bohemia in November she pronounced
it "the most desert of any I have seen in Germany. The
villages are so poor, and the post-houses so miserable, that
clean straw and fair water are blessings not always to be
met with, and better accommodation not to be hoped for.
Though I carried my own bed with me, I could not some-
times find a place to set it up in; and I rather chose to
travel all night, as cold as it is, wrapped up in my furs,
than to go into the common stoves, which are filled with
a mixture of all sorts of ill scents." ^

What was true of these regions applied equally to the
south side of the Erzgebirge, where the inns were "not a jot
better than the Spanish ones." *

In traveling through Friuli, in the extreme northeast of
Italy, and the Austrian Duchy of Camiola, Dr. Moore de-
clares, "The inns are as bad as the roads are good; for
which reason we chose to sleep on the latter rather than in
the former, and actually travelled five days and nights

97

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

without stopping any longer than was necessary to change
horses." ^

As for the neighboring Poland, "The duke of Yoric,
bishop of Osnabruck, and uncle to his present Majesty King
George, said a very pertinent thing. . . . 'That he did not
know a country where travellers were more at home than in
Poland, because they were always making use of their own
furniture.'" ^ One hardly found a chair to sit down upon.

The comments of most tourists in Germany arc anjply
confirmed by Nugent. Of travel in Germany he says that
it "is cheaper than in most parts of Europe." But, he adds,
"The accommodations in general are very indifferent upon
the road, as well in respect to provisions as lodging; ^ very
few public houses (except in some provinces, as Saxony
and Austria) being provided with regular entertainment for
passengers. ... In their houses one seldom sees a fire,'*
except in the kitchen; but their rooms are heated by a
stove or oven to what degree they desire. There is one
thing very particular to them, that they do not cover
themselves with bed-clothes, but lay one feather-bed over,
and another under. This is comfortable enough in winter,
but how they can bear the feather-beds over them in sum-
mer, as is generally practised, I cannot conceive." ^

The German feather bed occasionally puzzled foreign
tourists. "Some poor Frenchmen being conducted to their
bedchamber, one of them espying a feather-bed over, and
another under, imagined that there was a design to make
them lie one upon another for want of room. Upon
which he addressed himself to the servant, and desired him
to choose one of his lightest companions to put over him,
alledging that he was not accustomed to lie in this
manner."*

Nor did Englishmen take kindly to the German type of
bed. All readers of Hood's "Up the Rhine" will recall
the picture of the "worthy uncle" of one of the party
found in the morning "lying broad awake, on his back, in
a true German bedstead — a sort of wooden box or trough,
so much too short for him, that his legs extended half-a-

98

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

yard beyond it on either side of the foot-board. Above
him, on his chest and stomach, from his chin to his knees,
lay a huge squab or cushion, covered with a gay-patterned
chintz, and ornamented at each comer with a fine tassel, —
looking equally handsome, glossy, cold, and uncomfort-
able. For fear of deranging this article, he could only turn
his eyes towards me as I entered, and when he spoke, it
was with a voice that seemed weak and broken from ex-
haustion. 'Frank, I've passed a miserable nighj;. ... I
have n't — slept — a wink. . . . Did you ever see such a
thing as that ? ' with a slight nod and roll of his eyes towards
the cushion. I shook my head. 'If I moved — it fell off;
and if I did n't, I got — the cramp.' "

In general, the German conception of comfort was not
English. "The Germans seldom have a wash-hand basin
in any of their country inns; and even at Villach, a large
town, we could not find one : the inn we slept at, however,
(its sign The Crown,) is clean and good, though tall people
cannot sleep comfortably either here or in any part of
Germany: the beds, which are very narrow, being placed
in wooden frames, or boxes, so short that any body who
happens to be above five feet high must absolutely sit up
all night supported by pillows; and this is, in fact, the
way in which the Germans sleep." ^

As for food, travelers were advised to carry provisions
between towns, for there was no certainty of finding much
that was good along the road but wine.^ A hundred and
fifty years ago, to a far greater degree than is now the case,
inns throughout Europe were dependent upon the supplies
from the immediate neighborhood, and where this was un-
productive the inn table provided starvation fare. Par-
ticularly was this the case in Westphalia, where in the
towns the traveler fared ill, and "in the public inns along
the road and in small places" he was entertained with
"miserable pompemickel, with bacon half raw, and
wretched beer." ^

In more favored regions the guest had an embarrassment
of choice ; and it is needless to specify more than one or two

99

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

typical cities. Cogan gives particulars of an elaborate
dinner, handsomely served, that he got at Diisseldorf, with
"soups, fish, roast and boiled meats, game, poultry, vege-
tables, and fruits of various kinds ..." for which he paid
tenpence.^ Excellent fare also was to be had at Prague;
"the poultry is peculiarly good; there is a plenty of game
that is astonishing; no inn so wretched but you have a
pheasant for your supper, and often partridge soup."^
But this same writer warns travelers going from Vienna to
Prague that the fare along the road is indifferent, and that
"it would be perhaps more prudent to carry some cold
provisions with you in your chaise." ^

Nor were provisions the only necessaries of the table that
the fastidious traveler might carry. In journeying through
Austria, says Mariana Starke, "We were actually obliged
to purchase a couple of tablecloths and six napkins on our
journey, so terribly were we annoyed by the dirty linen
which was produced everywhere but in the very large
towns." *

Balancing the good with the bad we may easily see that,
to one bent upon pleasure, travel in Germany a century
and a half ago seemed to offer rather more annoyance than
satisfaction. At all events, comfort was hardly to be
found outside a few large towns.

The Inns of the Low Countries

On some of the inns of the Low Countries much praise
was bestowed by eighteenth-century travelers. The inns
of The Hague were declared by one writer to be undoubtedly
the best in the world.^ Nugent says of the inns or eating-
houses at Brussels that they "are equal to any in Europe;
and a stranger has this advantage, that for less than twenty-
pence English, he knows where to dine at any time betwixt
twelve and three on seven or eight dishes. The wines are
very good and cheap; and for six-pence English by the hour,

100

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

you have a coach that carries you wherever you have a
mind." ^

As a capital city Brussels, which even then aspired in a
small way to rival Paris, had the most luxiirious inns in
the Austrian Low Countries, but one could be very com-
fortable at Ghent, at Bruges, at Li^ge, at Ypres, and in
many other places. Young pronounces the Concierge at
Dunkirk "a good inn, as indeed I have found in all Flan-
ders." 2

Owing to the frequent intercourse between England and
Holland there were in more than one Dutch city English
houses for the entertainment of strangers. Of such houses
in Amsterdam there were usually two or three .^ At The
Hague there was "a good house" whither English travelers
"who speak no language but their own may resort,"^ and
similar accommodation was to be had at Leyden and es-
pecially at Rotterdam. Special advantages of these Eng-
lish houses were that not only were they as cheap as the
Dutch inns, but they provided "victuals dressed after the
English way" and were less likely to impose upon unwary
tourists. The names and character of the houses could be
learned from the captain of the vessel one crossed on or
from the merchant to whom one was recommended.^

Inns that were thoroughly Dutch were as a rule impreg-
nated with the smell of tobacco, and on the tea-tables had
spitting-pots placed "often much too like the cream pot in
shape." ^ But to the general neatness of the Dutch inns
all travelers bear witness. The floors were daily scoured
and sanded, and the silver and pewter and copper platters
shone like mirrors. Clean linen and soft beds might be
safely counted on at the inns and pubhc houses throughout
the country.

Yet there were some drawbacks. "Their bedsteads, or
rather cabins in the sides of the wall, are placed so high,
that a man may break his neck, if he happens to fall out
of them. Besides, a traveller must be content to lie with
half a dozen people, or more, in the same room, and be
disturbed all night long by somebody or other, if the churl

lOI

EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY INNS

of a landlord chooses to have it so. It is true, in the cities
you are accommodated in a genteeler way. There is no
disputing with a Dutch innkeeper, either about the reck-
oning or any other particular; if you find fault with his
bill (tho' properly spealdng they make no bills, but bring
in the reckoning by word of mouth) he will immediately
raise it, and procure a magistrate to levy his demands by
force." 1

Strangers making a longer stay than the ordinary tran-
sient guest found their advantage in taking private lodg-
ings, which at The Hague cost about the same as in Lon-
don, and commonly permitted the lodger to board in the
same house at a moderate expense.'

103

CHAPTER VII

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

Up to this point the traveler himself has necessarily been
crowded into the background, but from now on he must be
the center of interest. In order to understand the fondness
of Englishmen for travel in the eighteenth century, we
must, however, glance for a moment at the growing pros-
perity of England in the period we are studying and en-
deavor to realize the conditions that in some sense made
touring a social obligation.

The eighteenth century wrought a vast transformation
in England, though, owing to the lack of startling events
on English soil, the casual reader of English social history
too often thinks of the eighteenth century as a time of
stagnation. Yet the War of the Spanish Succession, the
great religious revival, the Seven Years' War, the conquest
of India, the long war with the American colonies, the de-
velopment of colonies in the four quarters of the globe, and
the vast increase in commerce — these, and scores of other
things that might be cited, are enough to prove that Eng-
lishmen were constantly receiving new impressions from
every side.

More than ever before Englishmen were interested in
foreign lands and travel, and, particularly after the Seven
Years' War, they flocked to the Continent in great num-
bers. There were, indeed, few places so remote that one
could safely count on finding no English tourists there.
But in general they tended to follow conventional routes
and to flock together in great numbers in a few centers.

First and last, the number of English travelers in Italy
was considerable. Baretti, who published his "Manners

103

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

and Customs of Italy" in 176S, estimates that in the pre-
ceding seventeen years "more than ten thousand EngHsh
(masters and servants) have been running up and down
Italy." The aggregate appears large, but when we consider
that this means no more than five or six hundred a j'car
we see that out of a population of six or seven millions
scarcely one Englishman in ten thousand found his way to
Italy.

"But in the latter half of the century the movement to-
wards the Continent was much more general, and foreign
travel became the predominating passion of a large portion
of the English people. 'Where one Englishman traveled,'
wrote an acute observer in 1772, 'in the reigns of the first
two Georges, ten now go on a grand tour. Indeed, to such
a pitch is the spirit of travelling come in the kingdom, that
there is scarce a citizen of large fortune but takes a fljnng
view of France, Italy, and Germany in a summer excur-
sion.' ^ Gibbon wrote from Lausanne describing the crowd
of English who were already thronging the beautiful shores
of Lake Leman, and he mentions that he was told — though
it seemed to him incredible — that in the summer of 17 85
more than 40,000 English — masters and servants — were
on the Continent." -

But there was a vast difference between the scholars
who poured into Italy to gamer the new learning at the
time of the Re\'ival of Letters and the young spendthrifts
of the eighteenth century who dawdled away their time in
the capitals of the Continent. Apart from indi\4dual dif-
ferences, the Englishmen who traveled in the first half of
the century had much in common. Most of them belonged
to wealthy, and many to titled, families. In the course
of the century the increasing wealth of the mercantile and
professional classes brought a large increase in the number
of young tourists, with a very short pedigree but a very
long purse, who washed to gain whatever social distinction
travel might confer. It is worth noting that, as had long
been the case, a large proportion of the travelers were men.
For this many reasons may be given; but, apart from the

IC4

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

fact that foreign travel was in a peculiar sense regarded as
a necessary finish for a young gentleman's education, a
sufficient explanation is found in the conditions under which
the Continental tour was made.

As we have elsewhere noted, travel in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries was extremely difficult and some-
times dangerous, and most women were physically un-
fitted to endure the strain of a long journey. With the
increase of comfort and the improvement of roads, travel
became somewhat easier, and Englishwomen, some of them
very notable, ventured as far as Rome or Vienna. Lady
Mary Wortley Montagu made the long journey to Con-
stantinople and back, but up to the end of the eighteenth
century women were far less numerous than men among
Continental tourists. Lady Mary, in one of her letters,
refers to the conclave at Rome, and adds, "We expect after
it a fresh cargo of English; but, God be praised, I hear of
no ladies among them." ^ Most parties of tourists afforded
the same reason for gratitude.

With abundant wealth and leisure and with a more
restless disposition than any other people in Europe,^ the
English were the most active travelers of the eighteenth
century.^ Men in society were expected to be familiar
with the principal sights of the Continental cities, and to
acquire in the chief capitals of Europe that knowledge of
the world which marked the cosmopolitan. One could not
be a member of the exclusive Dilettanti Club without being
acquainted with Italy.'*

But, obviously, when the grand tour became a conven-
tional affair and merely an evidence of good breeding, it
ceased to be primarily educational. In the eighteenth cen-
tury, as in our own day, hosts of travelers flocked to the
Continent from England with no other aim than to while
away a few months or years as idly as possible.^ Paris or
Turin or Florence or Rome or Berlin in turn afforded them
entertainment, and they asked for nothing more. Gallic
smartness of repartee, a knowing air, an easy grace, counted
for more in the circles in which they moved than familiarity

105

THE TOrillSr AND THE TUTOR

\\-ith art or history or sdoiuv or any other serious subjeet.
From the point of view of the wealthy yoinig tonrist, under
no obligation to cam a liNniig and N^th no expectation of
puttins: his knowledi^e of foiviv;ii eovnUries to any practical
use. there was no pressiiii: need of seeing anything thor-
oughly.

As might be expected, then, great luunbers of travelers
were at a loss to know how to spend their time abroad.
The hours passed slowly between meals. They sootr ex-
hausted what little it\tea^st they had in seeing buildings
and pictua^s that they wea-* too igiiorant to api>reciate.
They played cards with one another, took walks or drives
into the country, and gathea\l in crowds to watch the ar-
riving and departing diligeiKVS. They n\issed the faiuihar
English sights, and were as imeasy as cats in a strange gar-
ret. Englishmen of this type traveled in order to spend
their n\oney and ease a vacatu mind, and they wen^ as
dull and inane at Versailles or in the Coliseun\ as they
were at St. James's or at Newmarket. In so far as they
had any curiosity, it was a>served for "Palaces, gardens,
statues, pictures, antiquities, iuui productions of art." *
which they viewed in a hasty fashion. li\sutT\ciently
equipped to appaxnate the signiticance of nuich that they
saw. they drifted from one city to another, and were little
the wiser for their trouble.

Our age is cc>mmonly described as a time of restless hurry,
but we can hardly exceed the haste with which eighteenth-
century travelers posted through interesting cities without
stopping. Tlie small distance that they covered in a day
or week makes their progress as a whole seem leisuaMy,'
but the aMuoteness of Rome or Vienna compelled them to
push onward with little opportxmity of seeing on the way
many sights that were almost under their eyes. In many
cases tourists neglected important sights through slieer in-
ditleaMice. Evchni cites a tN-^Mcal instance. At Vicenza,
sa>*s he. "I would fain have \-isited a PiUaco, called the
Rotunda, which was a mile out of town. Ix^longing to Count
Martio Capra ; but one of our companions hastening to be

io6

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

gone, and little mindin;^ anything save drinking and folly,
caused us to take coach sooner than we should have done." *

The unintelli^^cnt way in v/hich many Enj^lish travelers
employed their time led moralists to regard much of the
touring of the Ojntinent as mere active idleness: "Too
many of our young travellers betray the sympU^ms of this
disease. The precipitation with which they hurry from
place to place, the shortness of their stay v/here it ought trj
be of some duration, and its length where no reasons can
justify it; their little notice of things deserving much con-
sideration, and their extraordinary attention to matters of
small moment; their neglect of u:-x;ful or agreeable knowl-
edge and information, and their shameful preference of
uninteresting and trivial subjects; these and other instances
of gross misconduct have long contributed to make travel-
ling a business of great charge and little profit." '

"To lessen the Trouble which young Dilettanti often
meet with Abroad in their Virtuo!,o Pursuits," says Breval,
"has been one of my principal Aims in this Undertaking:
So common it is to see them following a Wild Goose Chace
under the conduct of some ignorant Tomb-shewer; over-
looking Things of the greatest Importance, while their
Attention is taken up with Trifles; and posting thro' a
Town where they might spend a Week with Pleasure and
Profit, to make a Month's Halt perhaps at another, which
would be half a Day's Stop to a Man of Taste and Ex-
perience." ^

To the same purport, but more picturesquely, Cogan re-
marks: "Should their road lead through Paradirse itself;
or should they have taken a long and tedious journey ex-
pressly to see the garden of Eden, it is a question whether
our impetuous gentlemen would not tip the post-boy half
a crown extraordinary to mend his pace, as they were driv-
ing through it!" *

People of other nationalities did not fail to remark upon
the pectdiar methods of the English. "The French have
an opinion," says a contemporary Engli;ih v/riter, "that
the English are ... in such a violent hurry upon the road,

107

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

that if some little delay is occasioned, they w-ill rather leave
their money behind than stay to recover it." '

Dupaty, in his "Letters on Italy," observes: "In a hun-
dred there are not two that seek to instruct themselves.
To cover leai::iies on land or on water; to talce punch and
tea at the inns ; to speak ill of all the other nations, and to
boast without ceasing of their own; that is what the crowd
of the English call travelling. The post-book is the only
one in which they instruct themselves." ^ They aftiply
illustrate Babeau's comment on most travelers, that they
see only the outsides of things, "monuments rather than
men, . . . inns rather than houses, . . . routes rather than
the coimtry." '

As the sight-seeing was largely a conventional duty, some
tourists wasted as little effort upon it as possible. Dr.
Moore cites an amusing instance of economy of time in see-
ing Rome. "One j^oung English gentleman, who happens
not to be violently smitten with the charms of virtu and
scorns to afTcet what he does not feel, thought that two or
three hours a day for a month or six weeks together was
rather too much time to bestow on a piu-suit in which he
felt no pleasure, and saw very little utility. The only ad-
vantage which, in his opinion, the greater part of us reaped
from our six weeks' tour was that we could say we had seen
a great many fine things wliich he had not seen. Being
fully conN^nced that the business might be, with a little
exertion, despatched in a very short space of time, he pre-
vailed on a proper person to attend him; ordered a post
chaise and four horses to be ready early in the morning,
and driving through churches, palaces, villas, and ruins,
with all possible expedition, he fairly saw, in two days, all
that we had beheld during our crawling course of six weeks.
I found afterwards, by the list he kept of what he had done,
that we had not the advantage of him in a single picture,
or the most mutilated remnant of a statue." *

Traveling with haste and inattention as they did, the
observations of most tourists were of singularly little
value. We have a good number of eighteenth-century ac-

loS

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

counts of tours in France and Italy, but, althou^^h a few
give evidence of competence for the task, the majority do
little more than repeat the well-worn stock of conventional
information. Walpole is a typical and very favorah)le ex-
ample. He was in every fiber a man of the world and ex-
ceptionally clever; he could not fail to be entertaining if he
tried; but many of his comments on things abroad are
strikingly superficial. Two of his letters written in 1740,
the first in January and the last in October, well illustrate
how rapidly he lost his keen interest in the very sights he
had gone so far to see. "I see several things that please
me calmly, but, a force d'en avoir m, I have left off scream-
ing Lord! this! and Lord! that! To speak sincerely,
Calais surprised me more than any thing I have seen since.
I recollect the joy I used to propose if I could but see the
Great Duke's gallery; I walk into it now with as little emo-
tion as I should into St. Paul's." ^ "When I first came
abroad every thing struck me, and I wrote its history; but
now I am grown so used to be surprised, that I don't per-
ceive any flutter in myself when I meet with any novelties;
curiosity and astonishment wear off, and the next thing is,
to fancy that other people know as much of places as one's
self; or, at least, one does not remember that they do not." ^
"I have contracted so great an aversion to inns and post-
chaises, and have so absolutely lost all curiosity, that,
except the towns in the straight road to Great Britain, I
shall scarce see a jot more of a foreign land." ^

As might be expected, then, the comments in most
eighteenth-century books of travel are singularly common-
place. When we exclude a few well-known works, those
that remain are full of remarks trivial in the extreme.''
Were it not laughable, the flippant way in which some trav-
elers dispose of cities like Padua, Verona, Vicenza, Siena,
and many others, as containing little or nothing worth see-
ing, would stir our wrath. At Siena even Dupaty found
nothing remarkable except the group of the three graces in
the cathedral.^

Another typical instance is Pistoia. Few places of its

109

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

size in all Europe can boast such a wealth of art and of pic-
turesque architecture. Yet Evelyn, who was far above the
average tourist in intelligence, recorded in his Diary
merely: "We dined at Pistoia, where, besides one church,
there is Httle observable."' Bromley says of Pistoia:
"I had Httle time for seeing this place, staying only the
changing caleshes; it is an old place, and I was assured
had very little worthy notice." ^ Misson, who should have
known better, says: "There is nothing in Pistoia that- de-
serves either the trouble or charge of going out of the way
to see it." ^ The usually keen-eyed De Brosses remarks,
"This city, ancient and deserted, appeared to me to have
nothing remarkable except the baptistery. . . . Opposite
the baptistery is the cathedral, with the air of a village
church." * And Northall in 1752 merely observes: "Ruin,
desolation, and indolence are seen in all the streets, which
are well paved, with large flags." ^ Even Mariana Starke's
accounts of notable places are often vague and entirely
lacking in distinctiveness,^ or they arbitrarily single out
an item or two and ignore everything else.

Yet these travellers were far above the average run.
Those who did not venture to put their experiences into
print, but who chattered constantly about what they had
seen, were more fairly representative. On the utterances
of this type of tourists Steele has some interesting com-
ments in the "Spectator," No. 474: "But the most irk-
some Conversation of all others I have met with in the
Neighborhood, has been among two or three of your Trav-
ellers, who have overlooked Men and Manners, and have
passed through France and Italy with the same observation
that the Carriers and Stage-Coachmen do through Great
Britain; that is, their Stops and Stages have been regu-
lated according to the Liquor they have met with in their
Passages. They indeed remember the Names of abundance
of Places, with the particular Fineries of certain Churches.
But their distinguishing Mark is certain Prettinesses of
Foreign Languages, the Meaning of which they could have
better express'd in their own. The Entertainment of these

no

THE DUOMO AND THE BAPTISTERY, PISTOIA

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

fine Observers, Shakes pear has described to consist In talk-
ing of the Alps and Apennines, The Pyrenean, and the River
Po,* and then concludes with a Sigh, Now this is worshipful
Society."

Obviously, the offhand estimates of foreign lands that
such tourists made were often grotesquely false. But the
more ambitious accounts attempted by travelers who drew
sweeping conclusions from limited data were little better,
"An author of this cast, after a slight survey of the prov-
inces through which he has had occasion to take a short
ramble, returns home, and snatching up his pen in the rage
of reformation, fills pages on pages with scurrilous narra-
tions of pretended absurdities, intermixed with the most
shocking tales of fancied crimes ; very gravely insisting that
those crimes and absurdities were not single actions of this
or that individual, but general pictures of nature in the
countries through which he has travelled." ^

Baretti has particularly in mind the " Letters from Italy "
of Dr. Sharp, who, as he declares, "was ignorant of the
Italian language; was of no high rank; and was afflicted
with bodily disorders." ^ "Sharp," says Baretti, "saw
little, inquired less, and reflected not at all; blindly fol-
lowing his travelling predecessors in their invectives
against the pope's government." * As a whole, he charac-
terizes Sharp's book as "the production of a mind unjustly
exasperated against a people, whose individuals either
knew him not, or, if they knew him, treated him with be-
nevolence and civility, as they do all the English, and all
other strangers who visit their country." ^

The uncompromising attitude of Sharp and of many other
English tourists toward Italy was doubtless in part due to
their Protestantism. Not that the ordinary traveling Eng-
lishman in the eighteenth century was enthusiastic over
his religion; but he had an instinctive dislike of popery,
and more than a little contempt for the usages of the Roman
Church. To some extent his feeling was shared by many
intelligent Frenchmen and Italians, who gave only a nomi-
nal allegiance to the traditional beliefs, and often not even

III

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

that. On the Continent the fires of the Reformation and
of the counter-Refonnation had well-niij;h burned out, so
that the average Protestant might go where he pleased and
do about as he pleased. But English Catholics were rare
in the eighteenth century, and English travelers in France
and Italy not unnaturally viewed with ill-concealed disdain
the ceremonies and pictures and images and relics that
they regarded as childish or heathenish. One traveler re-
marks on the old masters that "almost all their paintings
are of the same strain, to promote idolatry and superstition
of some kind or other." ' And a few pages later he says:
"Sometimes a priest or friar of their society gives them a
detail of nonsense in praise of that saint, and of the piety of
their institution, and such like, which they call a scnnon.
We have heard some of these fulsome discourses, and have
been much surprised at the feigned raptures of the preacher,
and the amazing ignorance and simplicity of the hearers." ^
Like Sharp, the novelist Smollett embodied his experi-
ences on the Continent in a well-known work. Smollett
has the querulous and petulant tone of a nervous invalid,
who sees everything through jaundiced eyes and makes
sweeping assertions based upon an occasional unpleasant
experience. In no case is it safe to allow him the final word
in judging any part of the Continent, though his keen eye
and marvelous descriptive faculty enable him to picture
indi\'idual facts and scenes with great accuracy. One might
easily gather from his pages a choice collection of vitu-
perative adjectives, usually in the superlative degree, for
he taxes the resources of the language to express his dis-
gust at the treatment he received from scoundrels of every
sort. Smollett had, indeed, one long series of quarrels with
carriage drivers, innkeepers, and servants in his journey
through France and Italy. Some of these squabbles were
unquestionably due to annojdng exactions and petty knav-
ery, but. as he confesses himself, a small additional outlay
would have enabled him to avoid most of them.'

112

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

II

Absurd as were some of the English estimates of men and
thmgs on the Continent, they were due not wholly to per-
sonal, temperamental prejudice, but in part to the alto-
gether inadequate preparation for travel that many tourists
had. If one may trust Gibbon, eighteenth-century students
were only too likely to emerge from an English university
almost as ignorant as when they entered. In any case their
range of information was singularly narrow. Says a very
competent observer: "It is easy to perceive that the Eng-
hsh universities are in less repute than they were formerly.
The rich and great, who, at one time, would on no account
have omitted to send their sons thither, now frequently
place them under some private tutor to finish them, as it is
called, and then immediately send them on their travels. "^
We must admit that exceptional men like Warburton and
Blackstone and Mansfield and Wesley and Chesterfield
and Johnson and Gibbon, and many others who attended
the universities, did, sooner or later, in spite of great laxity
in the curriculum and the discipline, attain high scholar-
ship. But in general standards were low. In any case,
from a young man in society no great learning was expected'
If he had gone through Oxford or Cambridge, he could not
avoid picking up the rudiments of Latin and Greek and
some bits of information about ancient Rome and a few
other cities, but of the topography, the history, the govern-
ment, the art, the architecture, the social conditions of the
countries he intended to visit, he was strangely, and, to our
thinking, often disgracefully, ignorant. The lack of ade-
quate preparation for appreciating the sights of the Conti-
nent left the ordinary young tourist helpless in the attempt
to get more than a casual and unsystematic addition to his
stock of knowledge. To one who knew nothing of history
or architecture the remains of antiquity meant little:
the Forum was a cow pasture, the Circus Maximus a brick
heap, the Catacombs ill-smelling holes.

"3

\

TMK Tcn^KlSr AND THK iriXMl

Yet. although fow know atiythiiij; thorouj^hly, every
one in soeiety was expeeted to have at least a superfieial
acquaintance \\'ith a multitude of thinv^s. Hasty and inat-
tentive tourists wen.^ doubtless far too eomnion. but besides
the mob of dissipated yoiui^: spendthrifts who tloeked to
the fasliionable centers for mere diversion tluMv wore a
i^ood mimber of En,i;lishmen who tVi^arded the Cotitiuental
tour as a valuable means of culture at\d protited by it as
they best could. They mapped out an atnbitious*pro-
i^rannne and were kcvt^ly curioxis about every thii\,v;. There
were tourist manuals that prescribed an astonishing; ranj;e of
topics on which the traveler was supposed to infonii himself
iti advaiKV and to accmnulate infonuation as he journeyed.
But hervnn lay the danj^er that the relative value of facts
would be hardly considered. "It is indispensably neces-
sary." says Rerchtold, "for a youni; getuleman who desires
to travel, either for his own in^provement. the welfare of
mankind in goner.vl. or for the happiness of his country in
particular, to lay in a cvTtain stock of fimdamental knowl-
edge, befon^ he undertakes the ditVicult task of travelling
to real advantage." '

"A mere connoisseur and \nrtuoso." says Andrews, "is
a character by no means to be coveted by a gentleman.
They who aim at no more misimderstand the only justifi-
able purpose for which men of rank, education, and fortune
ought to travel; which is to adorn their niinds with proper
ideas, of men and things, and not to leani the trade of a
collector of curiosities." *

Intending travelers were ad\'ised to read the best histo-
ries and accounts of each country, and to get the best maps
and have them "properly fitted up on linen, in order to
render them convenient for the pocket." * There is. indeed,
no end to the well-meant adNnce tendered the tourist.

Had the plan of such books been actually followed to the
letter, the tourist would unquestionably have learned some-
thing. But more than one conscientious young fellow gath-
ered unrelated facts which were of no special importance
to him, but which he industriously assembled because he

114

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

was making a ^rand tour accorrling to rule and thus con-
forming in one more partioilar to well-ordered conventions.^

In any case, it was of prime importance that, unless the
tourist was to associate wholly with his fellow countrymen,
he should pick up some acquaintance with the languages of
the Continent. In fact, one main reason for making the
long tour was that he might get at least a smattering of one
or two of them. The two most in favor were French and
Italian. French, in particular, was an essential part of the
preparation of any young man of the upper classes for a
social career or for public life. With French the tourist
could go through France, Holland, Germany, Italy, Russia,
Sweden, and be at home in all c-ultured society .^ But the
stolid Englishman often hesitated to use his French or
Italian for fear of committing some blunder in accent or
grammar. Not too communicative in his own tongue, he
might well ask himself why ho should go out of his way
to exchange commonplaces in bad French or Italian with
people he had never seen before and was unlikely ever to
meet again. Instinctively, therefore, he sought out his
countrymen in preference to the natives of the country he
visited.

How serious a hindrance the imperfect mastery of for-
eign tongues was to anything beyond a merely superficial
social intercourse, and how greatly it contributed to mutual
misunderstandings, we need hardly remark. The poet
Gray's experience at Paris was typical of any place on the
Continent where there were many English. "We had,"
writes he,^ "at first arrival an inundation of visits pouring
in upon us, for all the English are acquainted and herd
much together, and it is no easy matter to disengage one-
self from them, so that one sees but little of the French
themselves. To be introduced to the People of high qual-
ity, it is absolutely necessary to be Master of the Language,
for it is not to be imagined that they will take pains to
understand anybody, or to correct a stranger's blunders.
Another thing is, there is not a House where they don't
play, nor is any one at all acceptable, unless they do so too,

"5

THK TCH'UlSr AND IHK ir rOK

a pn.'ifossod Gamostor Ivitv^ tho most ;ulvat\tai;oous char-
ftctor a Man can have at Taris. The Abbes indeed and
twen ot leartut\i: ate a IVople of easy access enough, but
few l'!i\i;Ush that travel liave kt\o\Yled,i;e ei\ous;li to take
any great pleasuiv in this Company, at least our present
lot of travellei-s have not." *

In our day many English travelers speak Freneli and
Gonnan. and sometimes Italian and Si\itush. with tlueney
and tolerable accuracy, but even yet the axerage Hngiish-
man's lack of facility in ai\y foivign tongue is proverbial.
He c:ui with ditVieulty forget himself, and he unwillingly
submits to the humiliation attendant upon learning .i new
langnage. In the eighteenth ceiUury n\any young ICnglish
tourists intei\ded to learn no language but their own — aiui
they succeeded admirably. Prvnid-spirited and unwilling
to put themselves at a disadvantage before strangers, they
ignoivd as far as they could the fact that tliey were living
amidst the users of a lat\guage not their own. On the
other hand, well-edncaled tourists commoiily spoke a tol-
erable imitation of Fivnch. and a polished man of .society
like George Selwyn was as nuich at home in l-'rcuch as in
English. "Voltain.^ declares." says Leslie Stephen, "that
Bolingbroke — one of whose e;irly essays was published in
French — spoke l-^vnch with unsur|">assed energy and pre-
cision. The young iioblctuan on his grand tour was easily
admitted with his tutor to Frctich society, and it is enough
to mention the names of llor.ice Walpole. Hume, and
Adam Smith, to suggest the importance of the rel.it ions
whicli sometimes sprang up." *

The popularity of the Italian tour induced many Eng-
lishmen to pick up some knowledge of the Italian langriiage
and literature. The young Earl of Carlisle, writing to
Selw>Ti from Turin in 1765, says: ' *'I am learning Spanish
and Itiilian. and read a i:rreat deal." * And three years
later, writing from Rome, he says; "I read Italian pretty
well: speaking I have little occasion for. I think I am a
good deal improved in my French." *

Of Cluirles James Fox \ve an^ told: He "was an excellent

iio

THE 70(JHIS'J AND TllK JC/JOK

Italian fx;holar, an^l v/roUt and r/,rr/':r:(:'] in i.h'; Ffrnch
hiriyun'/f: fxlrnf/'X wilh a'; mij'';h ' ' vrof/; and c/n-

Vf;rv,f1 in hh own." ' Hero an'] -iyVrhru'ir], Ijko

Chute, who Bfxmt Bcvcn years in Italy, mastered tho lan-
j?uaj;je,* But few had eithoT the time or the indination t.o
do «o much. Ih/nu^t Wali>oIe ha^l a 1/Jerable {urnUvxrhy
v/if,}i Italian, and a quaHxT of a century after his Italian
trij; he c/)T)yraiu]rxU:v. him?x;lf in a letU.-r t^j Mann: "I wa::
pleased the other nij^ht at the llnhart e^/medy V; find I had
lost so little of my Italian ar; t/> undoTntand it better than
the French scenes." " JJut he ha/1 no jTcat rna';f/.'ry of it.
He tried in /750 to writ^^ a letfx-r f/.» Dr. O^cchi, ?j/;knov/If;dj;-
in^^ the joft of his BathK of Pisa, but finally j^ave up the
attempt and asked Mann t/; (txjrrfsHfi thankr; for him.^
Limited ak/; was Walpole's mafit<'.Ty of Fre-rjch/' alth'^/uj^h
he had anouyh for all prar;tical jmrpf/A-/^.

All things considered, the a^yjuaintancf; of the rno^^t in-
tclhy/^ni ILnyVvih tourists with French and Italian v/ar; very
rcr'-jjectable. But with the rarest cxcajAvm':, one of v/hom
was CarU;ret, who had traveled widely in Gc-rrnany, Enj^-
lishmen in the ei;^hteenth cf;ntury were e-ntirely hywivixrii
of German. MnyVv.h UmrhUi r/^](]<jm knev/ m'^^re than a
phrar/i or tv/o of the lanynayc. Even a rtwlmy^ knowled^^e
of German was a very rare acc.rmplirvhment nmr/ny Eny-
Hshmen. Trained r;cholar:; like Hume, (ji}Ajf/n, Kobert:-xjn,
and Parr v/ere unable t^; u.% Gcrrrrau books. H^/race Wal-
pole's acquaintance with German enabled him as late as
1788 to say no more than " I am t^Jd it i;; a fine lanjMjaj^e." "
"But evcm in German courts," says I>eslie SV;phen, "the
travellers knew no German, and the home-;-:tayinj^ British
author rem.ained in absolute and content/;d ryriorancj-." ">
We have, then, the surprisin^^ fact that, 'ahhfAiyh En^dand
durin;^ the yrcsiUsr part of the ei^^htr^enth ce-ntury v;as ruled
by the Hour^i of Hanove-r and thu:; hrouyhi mUj the clorx;st
political relations with Germany, En^dishmen were ii\m<j'rX
unt/juchcd by German culture until after the French Rev-
olution. Indeed, lon;^ after German had v;on a fixed place
in English education it pre:;ented peculiar difficulties to

117

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

the ordinary Enj::lish intclHj^cncc. Evcmi Lord Houj^hton,
whoso advantav;os were excoptional. \\Totc ns late as 1S71
to his sou: "It is as well that you should boi^n that crack-
jaw Gonuan at school, as I suspect the dithculty I have had
in mastorin;^ it (though I went to the University of Bonn
after leaviui; Canibriih^e) conies from my never havinj::
boon well p-ounded in its detestable j^rammar and absurd
eoust ructions." * And Lord Hou,i::hton's experience was
typical. Maldns: the larj^est allowance we can for indiviTlual
mastery of foreij^i tonj^n^ies by eighteenth-century Eiii^lish-
men. we may suspect that, as is yet the case, multitudes
returned home froin their travels xN-ith hardly cnouj^h of
any lanj::uai::e besides their own to enable them to order a
dinner or to pay for it without being Ileeced.

Ill

As already observed, the ostensible purpose of much of
the travel on the Continent was educational. And this
purpose played so large a part in shaping most of the tours
that we nnist consider in some detail the favorite eighteenth-
century plan of sending out a young man to travel for a
few years with a tutor from whom he was supposed to re-
ceive instniction. This practice was not new, nor was it
peculiar to England, but had long been in vogue among
wealthy families on the Continent. A description of the
system as it should be at its best appears in Francesco
Soave's moral tale, " II contc d'Orengc." In this the author
recounts how a nobleman's son, who had been reared in an
exemplary way. set out on his travels at the age of twenty,
under the direction of a \nse governor. He was proN-ided
with all the recommendations that were necessary, and
his tour included Italy and the then chief countries of
Europe. Accompanied by his instructor he jounieyed from
one point to another, became familiar \%'ith various places,
with their position and appearance, with the natural prod-
ucts of each country, with the most precious works of art,
with the most reuo^^^led men of letters and artists of every

iiS

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

country, and with the constitutions, the laws, the usa^^cs,
and the morals of the various nations. In this improvinj^
fashion he spent two years.

The youn;^ Enj^lishmcn who made the ;:^rand tour doubt-
less occasionally measured up to this hi^h ideal, thou^^h in
general the net result was not so much a thorough training
in any one thing as a smattering of many, and a merely
superficial polish. But in any case, this system of training
was well established.^

In wealthy English families of the seventeenth and eight-
eenth centuries the education of young men was largely in
the hands of private tutors. A few great public schools,
like Eton and Winchester and Westminster, were famous,
but for a variety of reasons many parents preferred to keep
their sons under their own eyes and engaged private teachers
for home training. And even after a youth had gone
through a public school and the university, the tutor was
felt to be the most suitable companion for the Continental
tour, the importance of which was taken for granted. But,
evidently, much would depend upon the character of the
tutor. A high-minded, well-balanced scholar might be of
inestimable service to a youth eager to improve his oppor-
tunities. But the number of well-equipped tutors must have
been relatively small. The low e?jb to which education had
sunk at Cambridge and Oxford had brought it about that
only an occasional scholar was even moderately competent
to direct the w^rk of his pupil, to say nothing of serving as
a guide on the Continent. "Intelligent foreigners are not
a little surprised, when they behold our young gentlemen
sent abroad in the company of persons doubtless of good
character, hnt not unfrequcntly as new to the scenes they
experience as the very pupils entrusted to their care. I will
make no comment upon such a text." ^ But the tutor was
expected to be, not merely a preceptor, but a guide, coun-
selor, and friend. "He should be," says Vicesimus Knox,
"a grave, respectable man of a mature age. A very young
man, or a man of levity, however great his merit, learning,
or ingenuity, will not be proper, because he will not have

119

riiK Touiusr AND riiE Til roil

thnt natural niilhonty nnd that pori^onnl cUcfnity. whtch
coiiittvuul nttontioti ntui obodiomv. A i^r.ivo ami i;;ixh1
nvAu will watch ovov ihc nxovaU and the reHi;ion of his pupil;
both which, ncconlinv; [o the pi\\^ct\t niodcv^ of conductinvi
travel, arc cointuiMily shakct\ from the basis, aiul levelled
with tlie dust, before the etui of the percv^rination. In
their place sticcccd tniivcrsal vS«.vpticistn ami unboutidcil
Hbcrtinistn." ' Now at\d then, in view of the steady de-
mand for tutors of hiy^h character and ability, the i*ical
was reali::cd. Some men i">f tval ctniiuMicc and many o\'
respectable attaitiments were secuu\l avS traveling; tutors.
Scholars of this sort wore far from bein>i the shallow dolts
often satirised by critics of the v^ratid tour. No less a man
thaii John Locke spent a year in Paris with an Kns^lish
pupil, and evet\ set out wltli him for Rome, thouj^h the
prudctit philosopher did not \enture to cross the Alps in
the late autumi\. C^nly a few years earlier the eminent
naturalist Jolu\ Ray had "declit\ed. owinj; to poor health,
an otTcr to travel abroad with tluw youuj; noblemen."'
The wcll-ktunvt^ Frat\cis Misson. whose i;uide-book served
two get\crations of travelers it\ Italy, jovirneycd in i(iS; and
T088 acnxss Kun'»pc to Italy with the j^randson of the tirst
Duke of Ormonde. Johi\ Ihvval. who had more than one
tilt with Pope and was not altoi;ether above criticism, trav-
eled on the ContituMU with Georiic. Lord Viscount Malpas.
Whatever may be said of ^^reva.l on other j^rounds, he was
a thoroui^hly competent traveling tutor. More famous is
Home Tooke. who made two educational tom's on the Con-
tiT\ent. each tiu\e u\ chari^e of a pupil. He represented a
type of it\structor not seldon\ to be met at Paris atid other
ST^at centers, and in his gay suits of blue and silver and
scariet and silver, to say nothing of other colors, he was as
ut\clerical in appearance as clothing amid make him.

The average tutor was. indeed, a dull-witted, mediocre
scholar, with little itiiluence over his pupil. He was com-
mv^t^ly not over-ambitious, or if he was. he did not con-
tinue as tutor. Wretchedly paid, as was too often the case,
and hourly humiliated by tiie insubordination of the young

1 JO

TIIK 'ITMnUST AM) 'UIK 'ir;']r)}>»

cijb in hi:; char;y;, ho founfl hi:* lot Iho rcvor-/; of cnviahk;,
and ho rardy harl tho ability Uj riiic above it. Naturally
onmjj'h, the livarayG iuU)r, like the avcra;?c tourist, has
vanished v/ithoiit leavinj^ a traa;, even in that ^^rcat necrol-
ogy, the "Die-tionary oi National Bio^^raphy,"

In mr/^-t ai'M-M the tuUjrn of J^ln^dinh birth v/ere of rer,peet-
able fanriilies, thr^J^^h rarely, if ever, of the !yx;ia] i-aandinj^
of theHr \)rot6y&.i. A:; already jjointcd out, the touri:;t:! of
the fin^t half of the century belon^^erl mainly to the ranks
of the y(:r]iry or the nobility. A;; the cymtury pro{^re<;?-/;d
there wan an increaiiin^^ fjrr^portion of '.■/ju:: of v/ealthy
trader;mcTi who made the j^rand tour, cuy/.r]-/ copyinj^ the
fr>llie:-; and the vic<';;j of younj^ noblemen and ::tnvinj^ by
their in;-xjlent oritcntation of riehen to par/-; for ycuUcmen
to the manner born. Youn^^ masters of this type, uneasily
adju';tinj^ them';elveM to their !;odal po';ition, v/ere the least
tractable of pupil;:. With no family traditions of culture,
they commonly trcatcfl with ajntcmpt the well-meant
efforts of the tutor to jje-rforrn the < MWy-.tXioxi'; of hi;; contract.
If he wa;; a man of rf:rinemo'nt and of a^nr-icientiou;-; char-
arjter, he wa;> placed in a po;;ition of peculiar c-mbarrass-
ment. If, on the other hand, he v/a;; not too scTUpukjus,
and connived at the foliie:; of hi;: pupil, or even abettxjd
them, the youn^ fellow wa;; ofU^n in a wor:-;c state than if
he had ventured abroad alr^ne. Theoretically, nothing
could be better than to put the entire time of a compeU^nt
teacher at the service of a pupil. Men like Ix-ibnitz, L/Jcke,
and Rou;-:;:eau recommended education under a private
instructor rather than that obtained in the r/;hool:i. If all
tutors had measured up to the standard;: ;;et by thc^xj ;(rcat
thinker;;, therr: could have been little room for critici;:m.
But nf;t neldom the En;di;:h tutor was selected bccau;x; of
his familiarity, real or f:uj;po;x;d, with the languaj.^es of the
Continent, thouj'h of the;:c he had perhaps only the super-
fjc-ial knowledge posfX;;;::ed by a modern hotel waiU;r — a
few phrases, and nothing more. If he was a Frenchman or
a Sv/iss, he was too often unacquainted with Enpdi;>h char-
acter and social usages, and entirely unable to control the

121

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

active young animal of whom he had rashly assimied the
charge. We rarely hear complaints that a tutor deliber-
ately led his pupil astray, but he commonly drove with a
very loose rein. Horace Walpole had no high opinion of
tutors as a class, nor, for that matter, of the troops of trav-
eling boj's who invaded the galleries of Florence and flung
their money about the streets of Rome. Writing to Horace
Mann he says: "The absurdities which English travelling
boys are capable of, and likely to act or conceive, always
gave me apprehension of your meeting \nth. disagreeable
scenes — and then there is another animal still more absurd
than Florentine men or English boys, and that is, travelling
governors, who are mischievous into the bargain, and whose
pride is always hurt because they are sure of its never
being indulged. They will not leave the world, because
they are sent to teach it. and as they come far the more
ignorant of it than their pupils, take care to return with
more prejudices, and as much care to instill all theirs into
their pupils." ^ Similar flings abound in his later letters.
In 1754 he writes to Mann: "I am glad 3'ou have got my
Lord of Cork. He is, I know, a very worthy man, and
though not a bright man, nor a man of the world, much
less a good author, yet it must be comfortable to you now
and then to see something besides travelling children,
booby governors, and abandoned women of quality." ^
Before going to Paris, in 1765, he wrote to George Montagu:
"Though they (the Richmonds) are in a manner my chil-
dren, I do not intend to adopt the rest of my countrymen ;
nor, when I quit the best company here, to live in the worst
there; such are young travelling boys, and. what is still
worse, old travelling boys, governors." ' And again in
176S he remarks in a letter to Mann: "We expect our
cousin and brother of Denmark next week ; — since he ^^411
travel, I hope he ^\411 improve: I doubt there is room for
it. He is much, I believe, of the stamp of many youths
we have sent you; but with so much a better chance, that
he has not a travelling tutor to make him more absurd
than he would be of himself." *

122

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

Nominally, the tutor was responsible for regular hours of
teaching, when his pupils were making a stay of any length
in a place, but how difficult or impossible instruction other
than mere passing comment must have been while on the
road the modern traveler can appreciate. At best, the re-
straints of parental discipline were lacking.

Among the swarms of English tourists in France and
Italy, young men of character and ability were not lacking,
but far too many of those who passed three years on the
Continent returned little wiser than when they first crossed
the Channel. With a pupil of the latter type, inclined to
be headstrong and wayward, a conscientious tutor of some
parts must at times have found his position the reverse of
agreeable.^ He was bound to participate to some extent
in the amusements of his charge or see the young fellow
pass out of his control. But if the pupil's interests were
mainly centered in drinking and gaming and association
with loose women, the situation was difficult indeed. A
more attractive position was that held by the witty Dr.
John Moore, who for six years went up and down the Con-
tinent as medical attendant and companion to the wealthy
young Duke of Hamilton. But such opportunities were
necessarily exceptional.

Gentlemen who could afford the expense seldom venttired
abroad without a carefully selected traveling servant, who
stood, of course, lower in the social scale than the tutor.
Such a servant was nevertheless expected to be tolerably
educated and to make himself useful in all possible ways.
Berchtold's enumeration of the accomplishments that he
should possess and his suggestion of a suitable reward for
faithful service throw some light on the conditions of eight-
eenth-century travel: "A servant selected to accompany a
gentleman on his travels should be conversant with the
French language; ' write a legible and quick hand, in order
to be able to copy whatever is laid before him : know a little
of surgery, and to bleed well in case his master should meet
with an accident where no chirurgical assistance is to be
expected. Gentlemen should endeavour to attach such

123

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

useful servants to their persons, by showing; the same care
as a father has for a child, aj\d promise him a settlement
for life on their return." *

IV

Generalization on national characteristics is tcmptins:,
but ce>mmonly somewhat hairardous. Vet perhaps without
irreat risk of error we may put together a few features Miat
mark most of the Eni^lish travelers of the eii^hteenth cen-
tury in their attitude toward the Continent. Beyond all
question the averag:e English tourist was in ever)' sense in-
competent to pass judi^ment upon the people of the Con-
tinent. He seldom knew them well enough to be entitled
to an independent opinion, and he was compelled to piece
out his scanty experience by hearsay and by reading.
Too commonly he made the mistake of grouping the people
of an entire country under one sweeping category. And
rarely did he realize the significance of the things that he
saw. The sturdy belief of the average low-class Englishman
tliat any foreigner was immeasurably his inferior was
widespread throughout the eighteenth century. English
laboa"'rs often took delight in hooting and stoning a for-
eigner, merely because he was foreign.^ The upper classes
were, at least in the greater centers of population, to some
extent free from tliis prejudice and brutahty. Yet dislike
of foreigners and contempt for their ways were tirmly
rooted in the minds of most English tradesmen and of
ordinary country squires. Some t>'pes of English travelers,
indeed, were in the habit of admiring everything foreign
above anything Englisli. But, all in all, perhaps the most
striking characteristic of the ordinary nm of English trav-
elers was their insularity and their unreadiness to admit
the excellence of anything that was unfamiliar.^ Even in
our time the discriminating Walter Bagehot has observed
tliat there is nothing that the average Englishman dreads
so mucli as the pain of a new idea. This trait was far more
marked a centiu-y and a half ago and appeared at every

124

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

turn. The En^^Hsh carried their nationality everywhere
with them; and their habits and standards were in sharp
contrast with those of the Continent. The En^dishman
could not be induced to forj^o the pleasure of his tour,
which would give him opportunity to see famous buildings
and statues and pictures, but he was forever vaunting the
superiority of his native land and di:;playing his contempt
for the people who had the mifiortune to be born else-
where.

What Englishmen commonly thought of themselves and
what foreigners thought of them were two very different
things, though nothing is more surprising than the popu-
larity on the Continent of almost everything English in
the last third of the century, 'i'he self-satisfaction of the
English is admirably illustrated in the reflections of the
genial Earl of Cork and Orrery, which might add to an
Englishman's peace of mind but would hardly be equally
pleasing to strangers: "The English are a happy fjeople, if
they were truly conscious, or could in any degree convince
themselves, of their own felicity. They are the Jortunati
nimium. Let them travel abroad, not to see fashions, but
states, not to taste different wines, but different govern-
ments; not to compare laces and velvets, but laws and
politics. They will then return home perfectly convinced
that England is possessed of more freedom, justice, and
happiness, than any other nation under heaven." *

In the same vein Eustace remarks a generation later:
"The English nation, much to its credit, differs in this re-
spect (i. e., in vilifying human nature] as indeed in many
others, very widely from its rival neighbors, and is united
with the wise, the good, the great of all ages and countries
in a glorious confederacy to support the dignity and the
grandeur of our common nature." ^

The Englishman's attitude toward the Continent was
often strangely contradictory. "There arc instances,"
says Dr. Moore, "of Englishmen, who, while on their trav-
els, shock foreigners by an ostentatious preference of
England to all the rest of the world, and ridicule the man-

125

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

ncrs, ctisloms, and opinions of every other nation; yet on
their return to their own country, imnieiliately assume for-
eii::n manners, and continue during the remainder of their
Hves to express the hij^hest contem]")t for everythinj:; that
is Enghsh." ' Nor was this result altogether surj-irising.
Trained from his earliest youth to regard everything English
as best, the untraveled Englishman on going abroad found
to his surprise people who countetl their own ways as good
as his, who ate palatable food unlike his own, and in dscss,
manners, customs, and ideals were of a different type. And
in the end he was converted in spite of himself.

Fortunately, an occasional Englishman was sufficiently
open-minded to confess that his countrjnnen were not
entirely above criticism.- "English are generally the most
extraordinary persons that we meet with, even out of Eng-
land," writes Horace Walpole to Conway.' And years
later, in a letter to Mann, he remarks, "What must Europe
think of us from our travellers, and from our own accounts
of ourselves?"* Lady Mary MontagTi had lived enough
abroad to judge her countr>nnen from the Continental
point of vnew, and she regarded a good proportion of the
English tourists as no great credit to their native land.
Writing from Venice to Lady Pomfret,^ she says that she
is impatient to hear good sense pronounced in her native
tongue; "ha\ang only heard my language out of the
mouths of boys and governors for these five months. Here
are inundations of them broke in upon us this carnival, and
my apartment must be their refuge; the greater part of
them ha\4ng kept an in\4olable fidelity to the languages
their nurses taught them. Their whole business abroad
(as far as I can perceive) being to buy new cloaths, in which
they shine in some obscure coffee-house, where they are
sure of meeting only one another; and after the important
conquest of some waiting gentlewoman of an opera Queen,
who perhaps they remember as long as they live, return to
England excellent judges of men and manners. I find tlie
spirit of patriotism so strong in me every time I see them,
that I look on them as the greatest blockheads in nature;

126

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

and, to say truth, the compound of boo?jy and petit-mattre
makes up a very odd sort of animal." '

Extraordinary as English tourists often appeared to their
own countrymen, they seemed still more so to foreigners,
to whom they were a perpetual puzzle. England was no-
table all over Europe for producing odd types of travelers —
men who were counted peculiar even at home, and whose
strongly marked idiosyncrasies naturally made a lasting
impression upon the Continent. The composite portrait
often drawn as representing the typical Englishman is
doubtless inaccurate as picturing any individual traveler,
but it is, on the whole, more true than false, and would
never have been suggested by the representatives of any
other nation.

As might have been expected, the Englishman was in
general not an easy traveler. To difficulties that no one
could escape he added others by his lack of adaptability to
unfamiliar conditions. Notwithstanding the ostentatious
profusion of most wealthy tourists, there were many tour-
ists of the type of Dr. Smollett, exacting and yet penurious,
who were in hot water from the day they landed on the Con-
tinent until they were safely back in England. Such
travelers, wherever they went, loudly voiced their dis-
content with the country and the people, and commonly
found no lack of material for criticism. The Englishman at
home was so accustomed to speak plainly that he could not
be expected to bridle his tongue while abroad. Fortu-
nately for him, most of his criticism of governments and of
restrictive regulations of various sorts was imparted to his
fellow countrymen in their native tongue and was unin-
telligible to any one besides them. "You EngHsh," re-
marks Cogan, "are supposed to think, but you are univer-
sally accused of keeping all your thoughts to yourselves!
— A Frenchman will touch upon all the affairs of every
court in Europe, and all the fashions in each court, before
an Englishman can resolve to enquire what is the news of
the day." ^ In general an English traveler presented his
least attractive side to strangers. He felt it hardly worth

127

THE TOlIlllSr AND THE TUTOll

whilo to oxort hitnsolf for pooplo ho niii;lit tiovor moot ;i.i;aln.
and with whom l\o would not oonoorii himsoh' it' ho woro to
meet thorn. It is nol surprising;, thoroforo, that t"oroi>;nors
who saw^ only tho most unlovoly sidos o( luij^lish charaotor
shoulil havo boon rathor ropollod than attraotod. But not
infroquontly tho vory man who is chilly toward strani^ors is
tho truost of frionds. llo profors a fow tnistod ovuitlilants
to any mnnbor c^f casual acquaint anoos. Ho has no\-or
admitted any one [o his inner oirolo without tho most ojiro-
ful scrutiny, and for this ho lacks i^pportunity when ho
casually moots a strani;cr. Gcttini; vmi easily with people
that in\o chances to moot is an art that tho l-'rcnch havo
carried to ]HM-t"ection. The Eni;lishman of the ei.i;hteentli
century commonly lacked the tlcKibility and the solf-fi^r-
gctfulness nooessary (ov sueh oasual intoroourse, partiou-
larly if he had to use a lani;uav;o not his own and thus ran
the risk of making himself ridieulous. In genora.l intoUi-
i^otioo. or at least in hard conmion sense, and partieularly in
self-possession, Eni;lishmen compared favorably with any
travelers on tho Continent. lUit as a rule they could enter
but siiperticially into the spirit of forcii^n life.

Bearing:; all this in mind we may consider for a moment
lilui^lishmcn's interest in society abroad and the extent to
which they minj^led with it. We must remember that tho
ordinary traveler was under a s;ood deal of disadvantage
in attempting to make more than a passing acquaintance
with the people of the Continent. Commonly remaining
in one place for oi\ly a limited time, he coxild not easily
escape the hurried feeling that most travelers have in a
country full of interesting sights. In so far as he troubled
himself NN-ith society he naturally consorted with the upper
classes,' for whom weR"> reserved most of the pleasures that
made life before the Revolution worth li\-ing.

Polite society throughout Europe a century and a half
ago was in a sense a great inteniational social club. Any
one of recognized rank in one country had no dilhculty in
being admitted to society in another. France set the
standard of maimers for all Europe, and \'ersailles served

THE TOIJHIS'I' AND THE iUTOR

as a m(,<]d for scores of litUc German and Italian courts.
To a crowrJcd French salon he could find entrance, alon^'
with everybody else of unquestioned social standin^^. and
also to a Roman conversazione.^ But at a time when rank
counted for much in Europe, letters of introduction were
almost a necessity for the traveler. Without such help he
mi^^ht see the main si^^hts, and by the richness of his dress
and his equipage he could be sure of deference in many
quarters, but for admission to society he must have cre-
dentials. Then all was easy. "A sin^de letter of intro-
ductif.n," says Nugent, "is sufTicicnt to procure a person
an agreeable reception among the Germans, which can
hardly be said of the inhabitants of any other country.
Their civility goes so far as to introduce a stranger directly
into their societies or assemblies." « And as for Italy, Bar-
etti advises the tourist: "On your reaching the first town in
Italy, whether it be Turin, Genoa, or any other, endeavor to
obtain as many letters of recommendation from the na-
tives as you can, to take along with you as you advance
further into the country. The nobility of every place, and,
above all, the learned, will be pleased to give you such
letters; and the people to whom you will be thus recom-
mended, will still direct you to others. . . . [They may
perhaps] procure you a good lodging where the inn is not
to your liking, . . . tell you the true price of things that
you may not be cheated," etc.^'

Walpole repeatedly sends to Horace Mann the names of
English tourists who expect to visit Florence, recommend-
ing now "Mr. Hobart," who "proposes passing a little
time at Florence, which I am sure you will endeavour to
make as agreeable to him as pos.sible"; « now "Mr. vStan-
ley, one of the Lords of the Admiralty"; « now "the
Duke of Newcastle's eldest son, Lord Lincoln," who "is
going to Rome";" now "a young painter who is going to
study at Rome." ^ To these might be added numerous
others. 8 Much of the time of an ambassador during the
tourist season must have been consumed in attending to
the interests of young men of rank who were traveling

129

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

abroad and needed advice or entertainment or letters of
introduction.

But, however well introduced, Englishmen in Italy who
really wished to know the Italian people were hampered by
the conditions under which Italian society lived, and rarely
saw Italian life from the Italian point of view. In some
communities, notably Rome, the barriers that excluded
strangers were not rigidly maintained, but even in favor-
able cases the tourist was treated as a tourist and not as an
Italian. Moreover, tourists who carried abroad a fixed
prejudice against foreigners were unlikely to go out of their
way to seek society or to welcome it when thrust upon
them. Hence, the English tourist, as a rule, gave his main
attention to the things he could see, and regarded the in-
habitants as a negligible quantity. People he could see
anywhere, even at home. In fact, an Englishman often
hesitated to take notice of his own countrymen that he
casually met abroad, either for fear of being embarrassed
by their company later or merely because of constitutional
indifference. Smollett cites two striking instances. An
Englishman had hired a felucca and a servant to go from
Antibes to Leghorn. "This evening [March 20, 1765] he
came ashore to stretch his legs, and took a solitary walk on
the beach, avoiding us with great care, although he knew
we were English: his valet, who was abundantly commu-
nicative, told my servant that in coming through France
his master had travelled three days in company with two
other English gentlemen, whom he met upon the road, and
in all that time he never spoke a word to either: yet in
other respects he was a good man, mild, charitable, and
humane. This is a character truly British." ' In another
case, "There was an English gentleman laid up at Auxerre
with a broken arm, to whom I sent my compliments, with
offers of service; but his servant told my man that he did
not choose to see any company, and had no occasion for my
service. This sort of reserve seems peculiar to the Eng-
lish disposition. When two natives of any other country
chance to meet abroad, they run into each other's arms

130

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

and embrace like old friends, even though they have never
heard of one another till that moment; whereas two Eng-
lishmen in the same situation, maintain a mutual reserve
and diffidence, and keep without the sphere of each other's
attraction, like two bodies endowed with a repulsive
power." '

Hazlitt remarks upon the icy reserve of an English gen-
tleman with whom he traveled for a time in France, and
adds: "I know few things more delightful than for two
Englishmen to loll in a post-chaise in this manner, taking
no notice of each other, preserving an obstinate silence, and
determined to send their country to Coventry. We pre-
tended not to recognise each other, and yet our saying
nothing proved every instant that we were not French.
At length, about half way, my companion opened his lips,
and asked in thick, broken French, 'How far it was to
Evreux?' I looked at him and said in English, 'I did not
know.' Not another word passed." ^ Naturally, tourists
of this type baffied even the most determined attempts of
foreigners to make their acquaintance.

In varying degrees this excessive reserve was the accepted
national trait. Dr. Moore tells a very good story of Lord M.
and a French marquis at Paris, who "was uncommonly
lively." The genial Frenchman "addressed much of his
conversation to his Lordship; tried him upon every sub-
ject, wine, women, horses, politics, and religion. He then
sung Chansons d boire, and endeavoured in vain to get my
Lord to join in the chorus. Nothing would do. — He ad-
mired his clothes, praised his dog, and said a thousand
obliging things of the English nation. To no purpose; his
Lordship kept up his silence and reserve to the last, and
then drove away to the opera. ' Ma foi,' said the Marquis,
as soon as he went out of the room, 'il a de grands talen(t)s
pour le silence, ce Milord la.'" ^

The English attitude was, indeed, peciiliarly exasper-
ating. Dr. Moore cites another instance: "Though B

understands French, and speaks it better than most Eng-
lishmen, he had no relish for the conversation, soon left

131

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

the company, and has refused all invitations to dinner ever
since. He generally finds some of our countrymen who
dine and pass the evening with him at the Pare Royal." On

one occasion Moore dined with his friend B "at the

public ordinary of the Hdtel de Bourbon. . . . Our enter-
tainment turned out different, however, from my expecta-
tions and his wishes. A marked attention was paid us from
the moment we entered; every body seemed inclined to
accommodate us with the best places. They helped«us
first, and all the company seemed ready to sacrifice every
little conveniency and distinction to the strangers: For
next to that of a lady, the most respected character at
Paris is that of a stranger. All this, however, was thrown

away on B . 'There was nothing real in all the fuss

those people made about us,' says he. 'Curse their cour-
tesies,' said he, — 'they are the greatest bore in nature.
— I hate the French. — They are the enemies of England,
and a false, deceitful, perfidious — ' 'But as we did not
come over,' interrupted I, 'to fight them at present, we
shall suspend hostilities till a more convenient season.'" *

How absurd was this dislike of other nations many Eng-
lishmen clearly perceived: "The English aversion to for-
eigners is in opposition to reason, judgment, and politeness.
Because we are islanders, the happiest circumstances in
some respects belonging to us; are our manners more re-
fined, or are our customs nearer perfection, than the cus-
toms and manners of other people? I fear the contrary.
Our separation from the Continent gives us peculiarities
which other nations have not. It gives us that shyness,
that obstinate, silent, rude reserve, which we practise
towards ourselves and all the rest of the world. The sneer,
that proud, vain, cowardly sneer, which supplies the want
of wit, and discovers the abundance of ill-nature, is en-
tirely and shamefully our own; so that, if we find faults in
others, how many faults may others find in us?" ^

In the endeavor to remedy in some measure this state of
things and to fit their countrymen for social life abroad,
enhghtened Englishmen offered such advice as appears in

132

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

Andrews's "Letters to a Young Gentleman": ^ "In order
to render yourself acceptable to French companies, you
must assume something of their manners and endeavor to
put on some appearance of their vivacity. Their chief
complaint respecting us is a defect of liveliness and a taci-
turnity which they suspect sometimes of being rather
affected. ... In the mean time, that you may fill your
place with propriety in French companies, furnish your
memory with as many anecdotes as you can procure con-
cerning the people of high rank and fashion in England."

In the thirty years just preceding the French Revolution,
Englishmen of high birth or distinguished for achievement
of some sort had as a rule only to decide which social invita-
tions to refuse. In Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's day,
however, — if we may trust her sweeping generalization,
— the English had won no marked social recognition in
Italy, though perhaps they had had as much as they cared
for. She says: "To say truth, they (Mr. Mackenzie and
Lord Bristol) are the only young men I have seen abroad,
that have found the secret of introducing themselves into
the best company. All the others now living here (how-
ever dignified and distinguished) by herding together and
throwing away their money on worthless objects, have only
acquired the glorious title of Golden Asses; and since the
birth of the Italian drama, Goldoni has adorned his
scenes with gU Milordi Inglesi, in the same manner as
Moliere represented his Parisian marquises." ^

Dr. Moore sums up the whole case in some very sensible
remarks, which without much question contain a large
amount of truth : —

"Of all travellers, the young English nobility and gentry
have the least right to find fault with their entertainment,
while on their tours abroad; for such of them as show a
desire of forming a connexion with the inhabitants, by
even a moderate degree of attention, are received upon
easier terms than the travellers from any other country.
But a very considerable number of our countrymen have
not the smallest desire of that nature: They seem rather

133

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

to avoid their society, and accept w-ith reluctance every
offer of hospitality. This happens partly from a prejudice
against foreigners of every kind; partly from timidity or
natural reserve; and in a great measure from indolence,
and an absolute detestation of ceremony and restraint.
Besides, they hate to be obliged to speak a language of
which they seldom acquire a perfect command.

"They frequently, therefore, form societies or clubs of
their own, where all ceremony is dismissed, and the greatest
ease and latitude allowed in behaviour, dress, and conver-
sation. There they confimi each other in all their preju-
dices, and with united voices condemn and ridicule the
customs and manners of every country but their own.

"By this conduct the true purpose of travelling is lost
or perverted; and many English travellers remain four or
five years abroad, and have seldom, during all this space,
been in any company but that of their own countrymen.

"To go to France and Italy, and there converse with
none but English people, and merely that j'^ou may have
it to say that you have been in those countries, is certainly
absurd. Nothing can be more so, except to adopt with
enthusiasm the fashions, fopperies, taste, and manners of
those countries, and transplant them to England, where
they never will thrive, and where they always appear
awkward and unnatural. For after all his efforts of imita-
tion, a travelled Englishman is as different from a French-
man or an Italian as an English mastiff is from a monkey
or a fox. And if ever that sedate and plain-meaning dog
should pretend to the gay f riskiness of the one, or to the
subtility of the other, we should certainly value him much
less than we do,

" But I do not imagine that this extreme is by any means
so common as the former. It is much more natural to the
English character to despise foreigners than to imitate them.
A few tawdry examples to the contrary, who return every
winter from the Continent, are hardly worth mentioning
as exceptions." ^

With reference to the English habit of herding together,

134

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

he observes also: "It would be arrogance in anybody to
dispute the right which every free-born Englishman has
to follow his own inclination in this particular: Yet when
people wish to avoid the company of strangers, it strikes
me that they might indulge their fancy as comi^letely at
home as abroad ; and while they continue in that humour,
I cannot help thinking that they might save themselves
the inconveniency and expense of travelling." '

Defects of temperament and education, the Englishman
undoubtedly had. He too readily assumed that what he
had been taught to approve was the sole standard of truth.
But foreigners of discernment were bound to recognize
the sterling character of the better English travelers. Eng-
lishmen as a class had a reputation for fair dealing, and for
keeping their promises. Rightly enough, as Trevelyan
says, was the British name venerated on the Continent.'

We have still one important matter to consider, and that
is the eighteenth-century tourist's estimate of medieval
architecture. As every one knows, the eighteenth century
passed through a revolution in taste as well as in systems
of government. The man who had come to maturity be-
fore 1760 continued in the main to apply the old standards,
even in the last third of the century. And even the younger
men began only here and there to see merit in buildings
that had for generations been despised.

Naturally enough, to us of the twentieth century the
judgments of most eighteenth-century travelers in matters
of art and architecture seem strangely narrow and con-
ventional. They commonly admire uncritically, or if
they find fault, they judge by standards that to our time
appear absurdly false.' A multitude of things that the
modern traveler counts of the highest value are to earlier
tourists matters of supreme indifference. In place of
an intelligent description of the buildings of a town,
they often give a mere catalogue, betraying no personal

135

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

knowledge and no critical judgment. The whole might
have been taken from the guide-book, without the trouble
of a visit. Note what Northall says of Vicenza, which
boasts in its town hall the greatest achievement of Palla-
dio. The entire account is as follows: "On the 3d of
June (1752) we came to Vicenza; a small town, but very
populous; the manufacture of silk being very considerable
here. The townhouse was built by Palladio; and here
is a beautiful piece of architecture by the same, a theatre
built after the antique manner. Near this town is a
famous country seat belonging to the Marquis of Capra,
built by Palladio."^

Especially marked was the general failure to appre-
ciate the works of the Middle Ages. To most tourists
before the French Revolution the Middle Ages were
a sealed book, and to the average man the great cathe-
drals and castles, though surpassing almost anything of
a later day, made slight appeal. Prepossessed with the
notion that medieval art and architecture could be naught
but barbarous, tourists in France and Italy bestowed
only a passing glance upon delightful medieval cities
and hastened on to Rome. Naturally, then, we must not
expect to find many tourists visiting for mere sight-seeing
old hill towns like Assisi or Perugia or Orvieto or Ur-
bino or San Gimignano or Volterra. To many an Eng-
lishman Italy was interesting chiefly as a vast museum
of antiquity which enabled, him to vivify his recollec-
tions of the classics. On a lower plane, but neverthe-
less not to be despised, he placed the work of the Re-
naissance, Raphael, Michael Angelo, Bramante, Guido
Reni. The great ancient world and the great Renais-
sance he could fairly well understand, for their life was
expressed in terms with which he was familiar. But
to the thousand years preceding the fifteenth century
he gave little thought.^ For the buildings and pictures
and mosaics of that age he sometimes had a word of
condescending praise, but of insight into the medieval
temper he had very little. The rhapsodies of Ruskin

136

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

over Gothic art or things medieval would have seemed
to him little better than raving. Up to the middle of
the eighteenth century travelers seldom let slip an op-
portunity to show contempt for Gothic architecture as
unworthy the attention of a man of cultivated taste. ^
Already in the time of the Renaissance, Tasso, as Babeau
points out, had found Gothic ^ architecture barbarous.'
Montaigne "troubled himself in no way with Gothic
buildings. For him the cathedral of Chalons seems not
even to exist." ^ When later travelers approve a minor
detail of a Gothic building, they usually qualify their
commendation with an added slur. In Evelyn's opinion
St. John Lateran is "for outward form, not comparable
to St. Peter's, being of Gothic ordonnance." ^ Santa
Croce of Jerusalem "without is Gothic, but very glorious
within." ® Of Monreale, with its glorious array of an-
cient mosaics and its unrivaled cloisters, which Spanish
soldiers had enjoyed hacking and mutilating, one tour-
ist can say only that "the cathedral exhibits a very dis-
agreeable specimen of the Gothic taste," ^ and Breval
observes that "The Isles are filled with historical Rep-
resentations in a barbarous Mosaic, out of the old and new
Testament."^ Northall (1752) patronizingly says of
"the old churches of Florence" that they "are built
in the Gothic taste, and fine in their way; but the more
modem churches are built in a good taste." ^ Of Siena,
he apologetically remarks, "There is nothing in this city
so extraordinary as the cathedral, which a man may
view with pleasure after he has seen St. Peter's; though
it is quite of another make, and can only be looked upon
as one of the masterpieces of Gothic architecture." '°
De La Lande is full of the same prejudice. Of Colleoni's
tomb at Bergamo, one of the most notable works of the
early Renaissance, he says: "It is very bad. It is of a
time that had not yet emerged from the Gothic." ^^ The
author of an anonymous "Totu* through Germany"
(1792) remarks of the exquisite cathedral of Regens-
burg: "The cathedral is not admired for its beauty, or

137

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

any other excellency; but the monastery of St. Emeran
is well worth seeing." ^

It is not true that the eighteenth century was entirely
indifferent to Gothic architecture, for an occasional word
of praise for Gothic is already heard in the first half of
the century, and after the middle of the century Gothic
architecture has no lack of defenders. Even Misson
admired the cathedral of Siena. " The cathedral is of
a fine Gothic structure, and its beauty is so much the
more remarkable, that the building is finished, which is
scarcely to be seen in great churches." ^ Representative
guide-books like Nugent's "Grand Tour" and De la
Force's "Nouvelle Description de la France" devote
considerable space to Gothic cathedrals. But there is
in general no intelligent understanding of the principles
of Gothic art, even among those who arc most interested.
The comment on Gothic buildings is vague, and where
it is specific, it often mingles impartially praise and blame,
as in the following on the cathedral of Rheims: "The
front of this stupendous church consists of a vast number
of statues: Saints in miniature, placed in little niches,
and in exact spaces; so that the eye is pleased and shocked
at the same time. Magnificence is mixed with little-
ness, grandeur with meanness, proportion with dispro-
portion; consequently it creates in our thoughts an un-
easy mixture of admiration and contempt. The painted
windows are all perfect, and the sun has a glorious effect
upon the variety of their colours." '

Nugent's "Grand Tour" admirably illustrates the
growing admiration for Gothic, though he has hazy ideas
of the development of medieval architecture. The ex-
quisite Romanesque church of "S. Trophimus" at Aries
he calls "a vast Gothic structure."^ "The cathedral"
at Vienne, "dedicated to S. Maurice is a magnificent
Gothic structure." ^ He has also a good word for the
cathedrals of Strassburg, Orleans, and Chartres. It
is notable that he says nothing of the exquisite stained glass
at Chartres.^ Even more than Nugent, Dr. John Moore

138

THE TOURIST AND THE TUTOR

is in hearty accord with the spirit of the Gothic builders.
After praising the cathedral of Strassburg as "a very
fine building," he goes on to say: "Our Gothic ances-
tors, like the Greeks and Romans, built for posterity.
Their ideas in architecture, though different from those
of the Grecian artists, were vast, sublime, and generous,
far superior to the selfish smugness of modern taste, which
is generally confined to one or two generations; the plans
of our ancestors with a more extensive benevolence em-
brace distant ages."^

In 1787, St. John, in his "Letters from France," shows
himself a passionate admirer of the Gothic. "Though
there are," says he, "absurdities in the Gothic archi-
tecture, yet I think the moderns are wrong totally to
exclude it." ^ He dwells upon "the lofty majesty and
beauty of the inside" of N6tre Dame' and declares:
"I would rather spend my life even in an old Gothic
castle in a romantic situation, with rocks and woods
and cataracts around me, than in all the formal grand-
eur and stupid regularity of Versailles." * Of Chantilly
he says with enthusiasm: "The castle is a great pile of
Gothic building, with huge round towers at the angles
to serve as bastions. The venerable aspect of this groupe
of Gothic castles, dark and solemn, in the middle of a
fine sheet of water, impresses the beholder with awe
and admiration. ... It appears antique, solemn and
romantic; and the noblest piece of Corinthian archi-
tecture does not appear so awful and majestic as the
antique walls and ramparts of Chantilly." ^

But it is unnecessary to multiply examples. Hence-
forth one needed not to apologize for admiring the most
fascinating architecture in Europe, though two or three
generations had yet to pass before one could judge Gothic
buildings with thoroughly intelligent tmderstanding of
their development.

139

CHAPTER VIII

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

If this chapter were concerned vdth the touring of a
century or two earlier, the main theme might well be the
peril of travel. So distinctly was every sixteenth-century
journey an achievement that the traveler not unpardon-
ably regarded himself as in some sense an explorer and
a hero. In the eighteenth century there was less of ac-
tual danger. But travel in the eighteenth century was
not an unalloyed pleasure, though the zeal and persis-
tence with which Englishmen flocked to the Continent
are sufhcient proof that they thought the pleasure ex-
ceeded the pain. Incidentally, in some other chapters
we have noted unpleasant features of travel that could
not be escaped by any forethought. There still remain
a large number of annoyances, or worse, — some of them
petty enough in themselves, perhaps even laughable in
the retrospect, — which materially affected the comfort
and dulled the pleasure of the journey.

Since almost every serious traveler thought it his duty
to keep some sort of account of his journey, we have no
lack of descriptions of the experiences that one ordinarily
went through. From these relations we see that those
who were bent on visiting Rome and Naples and Vienna
had a long, hard pilgrimage before they reached the
promised land. Moreover, from the chronicles of the
minor hindrances and discomforts suffered even by wealthy
travelers, we may infer what was to be expected by trav-
elers of modest resources. Significant, at all events, is
it that practically no one failed to record some well-
grounded complaint.

140

SOMK DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

A j.^rcat number of the conveniences of travel that we
now rely upon as a matter of course were lackinj^^ in the
eighteenth century, and there were scores of obstacles
now rarely encountered. Travelers of every sort com-
plain of annoyinj.^ delay and expense owing to govern-
ment regulations They meet discomfort and extortion
on the road; the inns are dirty and ill-provided; the ser-
vants are ill-traine^l; the food is uneatable; the beds are
damp and filthy, and often alive with vermin. These
and a multitude of other trials made the journey hard,
and often tempted the traveler to wish that he had been
content to remain at home.

Sharp, writing from Naples, says: "Could an asth-
matic man jump from London to the lodgings I have
taken, though at any risk of his neck, he would do well
to venture; but I cannot say it woiild ?je worth while
to go and return as we do, through so much filth, and so
many suflerings from bugs, lice, fleas, gnats, spiders," *
etc.

With the dawn of the eighteenth century not a few of
the dangers and annoyances of an earlier day were les-
sened or entirely removed, but outside the large towns,
and particularly off the main lines of travel, conditions
were often frightfully primitive. The toil of travel was
painfully felt in the long, slow journeys that no one,
whatever his wealth, could hope to escape. A young
man flushed with health might enjoy the experience, but
it was none the less severe.

Writing to Selwyn, in 1768, the Earl of Carlisle says:
"I was in bed but seven hours in going three hundred
and forty miles, but as I could sleep five-and-forty miles
without waking, I was very little tired, and, having two
carriages, it was no great fatigue to the servants. I crossed
the Danube over a bridge when the postilions would
not suffer me to remain in the chaise. I must own I had
some apprehensions for my clothes, as the bridge, being
very old, and made of wood, even with my weight shook
considerably, but no accident happened." ^

141

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

Fortunately, the mind of the average tourist was pre-
pared to meet some discomfort, since, to a far greater
degree than is now the case, he was everywhere com-
pelled to come into personal contact vnth unpleasant
things. Many of these things, where they still exist, are
escaped by the traveler who has a modem guide-book
which warns him what to avoid. There were guide-
books, even in the eighteenth century and earlier, and
some, like Misson's and Nugent's, had excellent feakires,
but most guidebooks were defective in failing to provide
maps of countries showing the best routes, plans of cities,
and adequate information about the character and situa-
tion of inns and about prices. Travel was for the rich,
who were able to pay any price. To be too inquisitive
about the cost of things was vulgar, and, besides, made
unnecessary trouble for the compiler of the guide-book.
But in many cases comfort could not be secured at any
price.

II

We must never forget that, with all its delights, an
eighteenth-century journey was a serious affair, and that
prayers were commonly offered up in the churches for a
pious traveler's safe return. Mindful of perils on sea and
on land, Englishmen a century and a half ago prepared for
a tour abroad almost as carefully as a soldier prepares for
a campaign. And this was no mere excess of caution, for
there was always a possibility that the traveler might not
arrive unharmed at his destination. War was by no means
continuous in the eighteenth century, but the interrup-
tions to travel from this cause were not slight.' During the
Seven Years* War, for example, tourist travel almost
ceased. After the peace of 1763 it began again with re-
newed activity.

Perils of another sort beset the traveler by sea. Nearly
every tourist to the Continent crossed at least the Channel
or the North Sea, but comparatively few made the long
voyage through the Straits of Gibraltar to Italy. And it

142

SOMK JMNGKHS AMJ ANNOYANCES

was W':ll that i.hi-.y *]]'] not. Tho ship« wctc oommonJy
•mall and 'iirty, thf; f'x^d Lai-j, thf; weathfrr ofV.-n row/h, :xn<],
worst of all, there were lon^-fitandinjj trafHtion--: of capture
and imprir/jnment by fXia-rovcrs. In the time of Chaucer
there v/ar; danj^er from pirateii or privat/iers even in crosw-
in^ the En^di;;h Channel. And this clanger r;till threats
enwl travelerfi on mo;:t f-x;a'> in th^; firit half of th^: rxrv^-n-
tcenth amtury.'

In the dj^hUjenth century no touri;>t to the Continent
had ;^reat rcaf^^n f'^/r apprehension f^ this score exc^ipt in
the Mcdit^rrranean. Here on/i ran at least a chance of
bdn^^ pounced upon by f/ne of the lurkinj^ piratical veiisels
from liarbary. Note Bercht'-^ld's v/ord of cauti''/n: "It is
a rnaXUtv of importance t^.» know wh/rther that flaj< which
the vessel carries is rcsfKXi/i^l by the pyratical pov/ers of
Bar?jary, or not, if tho c/urr/i of the vcfiJX;! sh'-Aild li'; n';ar
to any such p<'/rts." *

Jiy huj^jonj^ the shore the i/Airhi y/An'^ fn/m Mar/Hlles
U'j Genoa or Le^^hom ran no very 'M:nrju:i risk of cndm'^
his days as a captive in Barbary.* But Nugent gives
warning that in g'^nng fr'-/m Rf/mf: Uj Naple^i "there is
danger of ?jeing taken by the a^sairs of Barbary who oftc-n-
times hide themrx;lveii clof>e to the shore and surprise the
feluccas. "<

Strange as it may seem, the mo:.t pov/erful natiorj.s of
Eurofx; in the eighteenth century regularly paid trilmUi
Uj the Barbary p\r<x\j-j:, in order t/j insure the safety of
their ve^ir^els. "Italian merchantmen on the high seas
flev/ the flag of another nation as a l'>etter protection against
capture."^ "Even the coasts wc-re threat^;n'':d by Bar-
bary pirates again:;t whr/m the government a.«uld fmd no
other help than to ercjct 382 towers on the coasts, not to
defend them, but t/j raise the alarm ami-jng the people, so
that in case of rlanger they could v/ithdrav/ from the fields
U.» enclosed places." ' In case of neglect to claim the pro-
tection of the flag of s^^me strong naval [>ower, remarks an
English tourist in 1741, mariners "are so much pestered
with the Algerines that they are forced Uj carry in their

143

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

vessels a little boat, into which when they see the Alger-
ines, or aiiy other enemy niaking towards them, they cast
their provisions away, and make to the next port, leaving
their vessel behind them ; upon which very often t heir ene-
mies go away, not much valuing their vessels or goods, the
chief prey which they hunt for being their men to carry
into slavery. The princes and states of Italy arc not in any
condition to clear the seas of these robbers." *

♦

III

Few modem travelers in Europe count it as one of the
possibilities of a Continental tour that they may be robbed
on their jouniey. Except for small pilfering, such as
one may expect almost anywhere, the ordinary traveler
in Europe has little occasion to fear for his valuables or
his personal safety, and probably not one tourist in a
thousand goes armed.

In the eighteenth century the danger was more serious.
Of course, the great majority of travelers were never
molested. But danger there still was and far more than
one would now ordinarily encounter in any civilized coun-
try. One who traveled widely, particularly in the south of
Europe, could not count with entire certainty on arriving
unmolested at his destination. Very significant is the sug-
gestion in an eighteenth-century book of advice to trav-
elers: "Double-barrelled pistols are very well calculated
for the defence of the traveller, particularly those which
have both barrels above, and do not require turning." ■^

So common was the carrying of anus that some cities,
as for instance Lucca, required pistols and swords to be
given up at the gate of entry, and returned them when the
tourist departed. The fees often amounted by the end of
the journey to as much as the weapons were worth.^ In
time of war and social unrest highwaymen may be ex-
pected anywhere; but in the eighteenth century they had
to be reckoned with, even in the leading countries of Eu-
rope, during periods of profound peace. Police protection

144

AN INTRRRUPTF.D JOURNEY

■.^-mtimt^tiitm^mmiimm

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

was imperfect in London itself, and the English roads were
notoriously insecure.^ Walpole complains in 1774: "Our
roads are so infested by highwaymen, that it is dangerous
stirring out almost by day"; and he adds interesting
particulars.^

^ In France the mounted police had largely cleared out the
highwaymen that were the pest of the seventeenth century,^
but it was still hazardous to travel at night unarmed, or to
traverse dense forests without a guard. Some streets of
Paris were especially frequented by robbers ^ and so were
the bridges. A real danger to tourists in almost every city
arose from the generally unlighted streets. Even though a
street lantern might be hung here and there in a few cities,
the light barely made the lantern itself visible. No thief
had much reason to fear recognition or pursuit after night-
fall. The only safe thing to do was to carry a lantern one's
self after ten at night, and so to carry it as to throw the
light into all alleyways and lurking-places. And in many
cities such lanterns were required by law. At Saint-Omer,
notes a tourist in 1776, "After ten at night in the summer,'
and much sooner in the winter, a person passing along the
street must have a lanthorn, or candle, or torch, Hghted
in his hand, or be attended by a light, or must show that
he has just had some such; without which ceremony any
gentleman is in danger of being taken up as a suspicious
person and carried to prison." ^

At Dieppe, we read, "Every person who is abroad with-
out a lanthorn, after ten at night, is taken into custody by
the poHce. With their eariy hours, ten is equivalent to our
twelve." ^

In the matter of lighting the streets the largest Italian
cities were very backward. "What is the greatest dis-
grace to Rome, and indeed, to every city in Italy, is the
uncomfortableness and danger of passing through the
streets after sunset; for there is not the least provision
made for lighting them. London seems to be the single town
in Europe where that convenience is rightly understood, and
carried effectually into execution; for, at Paris, the candles

145

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

in their brown glass lanterns i:ive but little li{j:ht, whilst
they do bum, and, beini:; small, are soon extin«::uished." *

Amonj:: Italian cities Palenno was a notable exception for
being well lighted. Some parts of Europe, indeed, were
"so safe in the day that a child might travel with a purse
of gold and not be robbed of it." ' And at night, though
there was more risk, one seldom met a highwayman. In
Germany there were "few robberies and fewer murders." '
Even in the dense Spezzart Forest, near AschatTei^burg,
"for twenty years," says a traveler, "there has not been an
instance of any person being attacked." In the early seven-
teenth century/ however, and throughout the Thirty
Years' War, Gennany was notorious for crimes of the road.

Judged by the standards of the eighteenth century, Italy
aflorded reasonable security to travelers, though to us
there seems much to be desired. Ui")on Italy a well-in-
fonned French traveler bestowed the moderate praise that
in general less was stolen there than in England.* But the
multiplication of small states afforded peculiar temptation
to crime. Gentlemen "vN-ill be upon their guard," suggests
a contemporary guide-book,' "not to lodge at night where
two states border, for there most robberies and murders
are committed, as the olTenders in half an hour may get
out of the reach of justice from that territory where the
act is committed."

Long after the close of the eighteenth century, personal
safety was very insecure in many parts of Italy. Says Tre-
velyan, "In the matter of taking human life Italian civ'ili-
sation was, perhaps, at very much the same stage of evo-
lution in 184S as English civilisation had been two hmidred
and twenty years before, when the 'killing affray' was only
just in process of dpng out." ' Particularly in southern
Italy human life counted for little. Every year in the
Kingdom of Naples a thousand persons were killed. From
four to five thousand assassins * were at the service of any
one with a grudge to satisfy. People went armed for
olTense or defense, almost all with pistol, knife, or musket.'
Naturally enough, robberies were most frequent in the

146

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

states that were worst governed. Conditions in the
Kingdom of Naples were perennially ?;ad. "The land
roads were infested with robbers and brigands, so that
the government recommended travelers to go in cara-
vans." ' Now and then there would be an improvement
for a time, followed by a period of social unrest that
brought back the old evils.*

Commenting upon the caravans, Misson remarks that
"at present there is no danger," adding, however, "But
tho' the profest banditti are extirpated, there are still re-
maining a great number of others who are little better." '
In another place, nevertheless, he says: "Highway robbers
are no more dangerous in this country than scorpions or
tarantulas; for there have not been any banditti at Rome
since the pontificate of Sixtus V." *

In his turn, Keysler, writing about 1730, says: "One
may now travel with as much safety in Italy as in any
other country." ^ Yet in speaking of excursions to Vesuvius
and elsewhere he says: "A traveller should by all means
carry fire-arms with him on these occasions; those people
being trained up to rob and murder, and accustomed to
wear at their side large couteaux." *

Peculiarly bad was the reputation of the Papal States,
and especially of the Roman Campagna.^ But we must re-
member that Italy was made up of many States widely
differing in character, and that a sweeping statement is
hazardous. Owing, doubtless, to the fact that most English
tourists were well protected, the number of those who were
disturbed on the road was relatively small. Moreover, as
the well-informed English traveler Sherlock, writing about
1780, remarks: "The nation is exceedingly poor, and that
counsellor of evil. Hunger, makes them commit many
rogueries. It is not, however, as is generally believed, a
country of robbers and assassins. My countrymen travel
there almost continually, and for thirty years past there
has been but one accident which has happened to them,
or to any of their people; and even that ought not to be
mentioned as an exception. As the courier of an English

147

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

duke was passing a river, he struck one of the boatmen with
his whip, and the boatmen shot him." It is worth noting
that he adds: "The country in general, especially Naples,
swarms with pick-pockets." ^

But while great robberies were few, small pilfering was
common. Thieves would sneak up behind a traveler's
carriage, cut the straps that fastened trunks or portman-
teaus, and make off with their booty unperceived. In going
from Sinigaglia to Ancona, Dr. Moore observed suspicicnis-
looking "men in sailors' dresses. . . . Our company was
too numerous to be attacked; but they attempted, secretly,
to cut off the trunks from the chaises, without succeeding." ^

"Travellers," says Berchtold, "should not permit stran-
gers to place themselves behind their vehicle, under any
pretext whatsoever, because there are innumerable in-
stances of coaches having been disabled from proceeding,
and unsuspecting travellers robbed and killed by this
scheme. In suspicious places, the trunk should be placed
before the coach; which place should generally be made
use of as often as circumstances ^vill permit." '

Travelers sometimes invited attack by a foolish display
of wealth. Nugent warns tourists against pulling out
money or other valuables before strange company on the
roads or at inns. "If this be a salutary advice in all coun-
tries, 'tis especially so in Italy, where though the public
roads are not much infested with highwaymen, yet there are
a great many villains who are ready to murder or assassin-
ate a stranger in private houses, when they happen to have
a prospect of some considerable prey. 'Tis proper also to
travel with arms, such as a sword and a pair of pistols, and
likewise with a tinder-box, in order to strike a fire in case of
any accident in the night." *

Very significant are Misson's instructions to travelers,
which, by the way, are repeated almost word for word in
Coghlan's "Handbook for Italy," (p. iii), published in
1847 : "A traveller ought always to be furnished with some
iron machine to shut his door on the inside, which may be
easily contrived and made of several sorts; for it happens

148

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

not unfrequently that the doors of the lodging houses have
neither locks nor bolts." '

Berchtold admonishes tourists in 1787: "Familiarity
with fellow travellers beyond a certain degree is very im-
prudent, and may sometimes produce dreadful conse-
quences; never ask another man's name, the motive of his
travelling, the time he intends to continue in a place ; and
if you observe that people wish to know your concerns,
answer them with circumspection, in such a manner as may
make them give up their curiosity without being offended. "^

But, as already remarked, notwithstanding an occasional
highway robbery, the British tourist in general suffered very
little loss or personal injury. Yet the tradition of Italian
bandits maintained itself throughout the century and al-
most down to our own time. Unquestionably, there were
in the aggregate a good many desperadoes who turned to
robbery, and even murder, if necessary, as the easiest way
of making a living; but as a rule the danger was not suffi-
cient to justify even a timid traveler in staying at home.
Just as in our day the number of brigands in Sicily has
varied with the price of sulphur, so in the eighteenth cen-
tury the number of robbers along the roads increased or
diminished according to the general poverty of the coun-
try and the laxity of the government. There was naturally
wide difference in the degree of danger to be encountered
in different parts of the country.

IV

In all parts of Europe tourists were hampered in varying
measure by antiquated official regulations that had come
down from the Middle Ages. Judged by liberal modem
standards, eighteenth-century administration appears
stiffly bureaucratic and strangely lacking in breadth of
view. The modem traveler now and then feels slightly
annoyed when he is obliged at a German, and occasionally
at a French, hotel to give his name, address, occupation,
the name of the place he has come from, and of the place to

149

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

which he is going. But the annoyance in our day is trivial
beside that to which the traveler of a century and a half ago
was subjected. From the moment that he landed on the
Continent he had the uncomfortable feeling of being
watched. Everywhere he was liable to the pottering in-
quisitiveness of petty officials disposed to magnify their
office. Perpetual presentation of evidence that one was
one's self, and not a dangerous criminal or an escaped politi-
cal conspirator, was the rule. For his own peace the t(5ur-
ist was, therefore, quite as solicitous to carry satisfactory
identification papers as he was to carry a full purse. The
interference with the freedom of travelers was practically
universal and unremitting, though, of course, more annoying
in times of war than of peace. The police thereby doubtless
easily kept an eye upon strangers, but in periods of tran-
quillity the outlay of time and money for this purpose
seems out of all proportion to the benefits obtained.

Suspicion and jealousy of strangers were only too com-
mon in days when a special effort was required in order to
go anywhere; and suspicion was the greater when one
conversed in a foreign tongue. Accordingly, frequent
registration, and application for licenses to do this or that,
are among the most characteristic experiences of travelers
in the eighteenth century. Whenever one left Paris or
Rome or Vienna the same tedious formalities must be gone
through. The passport must be visaed by the proper
official and the fee paid. Time that was desired for busi-
ness or sight-seeing must be sacrificed in order that the
suspicions of the government might be satisfied. Trav-
elers of all types agree that the passport was an unending
nuisance. Not merely had the precious docvunent in many
cases to be surrendered, but it could not be recovered with-
out the payment of a fee.

Unpleasant as conditions were in the eighteenth cen-
tury, they were infinitely worse in the seventeenth. When
Coryate landed at Calais, he tells us: "Presently after
my arrival, I was brought with the rest of my company
to the Deputy Governor of the towne. , . . For it is

ISO

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

the custome of the towne, that whensoever any strangers
arrive there, they are brought before the Deputy Gov-
ernor, to the end to be examined about the occasion
of their comming thither, whither they travell, and to
have their names inrolled before they go to their lodg-
ing.' . . . They have a very strict order in this towne,
that if any stranger of what Nation soever he be, shall
be taken walking by himself, either towards their Fort-
resse, which they call the Rice-banke, or about the greene
of the towne, he shall be apprehended by some Soul-
diers, and carried to the Deputy Governor, and com-
mitted to safe custody till he hath paid some fee for his
ransome." ^

In 1 64 1, Evelyn was thus held up at Lillo on his way
to Antwerp: "Being taken before the Governor, he de-
manded my pass, to which he set his hand, and asked
two rix-dollars for a fee, which methought appeared
very exorbitant in a soldier of his quality. I told him
that I had already purchased my pass of the commis-
saries at Rotterdam; at which, in a great fury, snatch-
ing the paper out of my hand, he flung it scornfully under
the table, and bade me try whether I could get to Ant-
werp without his permission: but I had no sooner given
him the dollars, than he returned the passport surlily
enough, and made me pay fourteen Dutch shillings
to the cantone, or searcher, for my contempt, which I
was glad to do for fear of further trouble, lest he should
have discovered my Spanish pass, in which the States
were therein treated by the name of rebels. Besides all
these exactions I gave the commissary six shillings, to
the soldiers something, and, ere perfectly clear of this
frontier, thirty-one stivers to the man-of-war, who lay
blocking up the river betwixt Lillo and the opposite
sconce called Lifkinshoeck."'

This treatment, we must remember, was not given to
a humble laborer, but to a man of substance and recog-
nized social position. And similar incidents could be
multiplied indefinitely. The eighteenth century kept

151

SOMK OANGEKS AND ANNOYANCES

onoii.uh of the old ospioiiai^o to put the tourist to much iti-
ootivonionco. Iti Frnntv. Carr atui his conipatiiou were
mwr boiug dotainoil a wivk because the latter haii broui^ht
no pass.' And this, more than a eetitnry and a half after
Evelyn's experience.

In !-io country, however, that tom^ists commonly visited
were registration and presetUatiiM\ of evidcTico of one's
idei\tity so continual an annoyaiice as in Italy.* Nui^ent
forewarns the tourist: "In travellini: thro' Italy \*ou
should be careful not to be without the passport of some
prince, ambassador, or cardinal, by which means you
will pass immolested thro' every city and fortified town;
and. what is extremely convenient, if the customs-otricers
should want to see your baj^5::ai::e, showinj:: your pass-
port, you are exempt from any kind of duty. Another
advantai^e of these passports is that on the confines of
neii^hbourinj: states they are looked upon as a bill of
health, if it be not lost thro' fori^et fulness. It is to be
observed, however, that those who have not a passport
must take a bill of health at I>olot;Tia to enter the Grand
Duke's territories, otheri^'isc they will be obli.ijcd to re-
turn to Boloi^na." '

At Genoa, we are told. "When atu' person arrives here,
he must either v:o himself, or send his own servant, to
the town-house, to s::ive in his name, country, and station
of life. lie then receives a billet, without which the people
of the inn cannot answer letting him lie in the house." *
So, too. at Ferr:ira, "Strani^ers must have a note from
the townihouse before they can be admitted to lie in a pub-
lic house." *

On entering Lucca, says Wright, "At the gate the
otTicers took all the fire-lu^ns we had in their custody,
and gave us a tally for restoring them at our going away:
they likewise gave us a billet to be delivered to the
landlord at the inn. without which he could not receive
us." "

"^M\ile the Papal Govemn\ent continued it was nec-
essary, on lea\'ing Florence for Rome, to have, besides

152

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

a pasr;port, a /a.vaa pa.^sare for the c*ntrancc of the Roman
state and another for the J^jrta del Popolo." '

One needed a Neapolitan passport in order to yo frr^m
Rome to Naples and another — to be [procured at Naj^les
— in order to return.^

In Germany, one's passport was constantly demanded.
One could not land at Ma;ylebur;( from an Elbe vessel
until one's identity was established.^ At Colo^^ne a stranger
was interrogated with great thoroughness. Here, as
late as 1794, Cogan remarks: "Having thus j^assed a
severe examination at the outward gate, we were per-
mitted by the guardian genius of the second enclosure
to enter the holy city without any official enquiries." *
The same formality was encountered, with varying de-
tail, throughout the Empire.

To get out of a country was almost as difficnjlt as to
get into it. In April of 1762, Sterne had to go "to Ver-
sailles to solicit the necessary passports from the Duke
of Choiseul." ^' In 1773, a tourist, wishing to leave Paris,
had to do the following: "The day before I left Paris
I was fully employed in hiring a coach, for which I gave
six guineas to M. Paschall, in obtaining an order from
the Po::t-Master General to be furnir-:hed on the road with
six horses, in getting a passport from our Ambassador to
return without molestation, and in obtaining another
pa:;sport signed by the King of France and counter-
signed by the Duke of Choiseul, to permit a poor English-
man to return to his own country, after having spent all
the money he had ?.»rought with him." •■'

"Without a pa:-:sport one could not go out of Paris
with post-horses. And it was the same with the garri-
son and frontier cities of the kingdom, where an order
of the commandant or the royal lieutenant of the place
was required." ' Application to a municipal ofilcer in-
stead of to one's ambassador merely postponed one's
departure from Paris. "vSeveral EngHshmen," :says
Carr, "whilst I was at Paris, met with very vexatious
delays in procuring their passports to enable them to

153

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

leave it, from a mistaken course of application." * We
might multiply similar experiences of the tourist in other
parts of the Continent,' but there is nothing gained by
the rcpetitioti.

Let us turn to another official document of almost
equal importance — the bill of health. Well meant, and
doubtless in some sense necessary, was the bill of health,
which indicated that the traveler was not likely to be a
carrier of disease. This was an old requirement wlMch
was long continued. Says Coryate, early in the seven-
teenth century, "At Lj'ons our billes of health began:
without the which we could not be received into any of
those cities that lay in our way towards Italy. For the
Italians are so curious and scnxpulous in many of their
cities, especially those that I passed through in Lom-
bardy, that they will admit no stranger \A'ithin the waJs
of their citie, except he bringeth a bill of health from
the last citie he came from, to testify that he was free
from all manner of contagious sicknesse when he came
from the last citie. But the Venetians are extraordin-
arily precise herein, insomuch that a man cannot be
received into Venice \\'ithout a bill of health, if he would
give a thousand duckets. But the like strictnesse I did
not observe in those cities of Lombardy, through the
which I passed in my retume from Venice homeward.
For they received me into Vicenza, Verona, Brixia, Ber-
gomo, etc., without any such bill." '

Later tourists frequently make reference to the cer-
tificate of health that each was obliged to carry.* "When
you depart from any city," says Ray, "you must be sure
to take a bill of health out of the office that is kept every-
where for that purpose, without which you can hardly
get to be admitted into another city, especially if it be
in the territory of another prince or state. If any one
comes from an infected or suspected place, he is forced
to keep his quarantain (as they call it) that is, be shut
up in the Lazaretto or pest-house forty days." *

For the eighteenth century', Nugent testifies to the

IS4

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

same requirements. "Coming back [to Italy] from Ger-
many this way" (i.e., through Carinthia and Styria), "you
must be provided with a passport of health, otherwise
you will be forced to go back, or obliged to perform quar-
antine for forty days." '

"We left Ravenna," says Wright, "with a double
fede (or testimonial), one to certify that we were well,
the other that we were sick; the former, on account of
their fear of the plague, to get us entrance into their
cities; and the other, (it being Lent,) to get us some grasso
(flesh-meat) in the inns." ^

In view of the laxity with which the certificates of health
were issued, the insistence of some towns upon compli-
ance with every official formality appears sufficiently
ridiculous. At Lucca, adds Wright, "we were forced
to have not only ourselves and servants, but our horses
and our dog specified in onr fede." ^

However unintelligent in actual operation some of
these regulations of the seventeenth and eighteenth cen-
turies appear to us, they were the outcome of a whole-
some terror of the ravages of the plague and various
other types of disease that were only too common. In-
deed, to the man of to-day the greatest peril of the tour
would seem to be the constant exposure to unsanitary
conditions, to damp, ill-heated houses, to improper food,
to nameless dirt. In many cities, partictilarly in Italy,
the streets were unspeakably filthy when they were wet
and full of pestilent clouds of dust when they were dry.
The Doge's Palace at Venice was made a very sty by the
constant defilement of the entrance and the corridors.*
The same was true of public buildings and even churches
throughout the peninsula.^ Even yet the sense of de-
cency in many parts of Italy is only rudimentary among the
lower classes. Until within two or three decades many
of the most frequented countries of Europe have been
strangely slow in adopting modem sanitary appliances.
And to this day a good number of somewhat pretentious
hostelries in France, to say nothing of Spain, put a severe

155

\

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

strain upon the patience of tourists not too fastidious.
As may be supposed, the water-supply was in most towns
a constant source of danger. Paris and Venice had an
especially bad reputation in this particular.'

Obviously, the certification of the harmlessness of the
tourist necessitated a constant interruption of his jour-
ney. But there were hindrances of another sort. Even
when one's official papers were all in order, one had to
make allowance for the possibility of arriving too l^e
at night for admittance into a town. Police regulations
were strict, often peculiar to the district, and therefore
difficult to know in advance. Most cities of any size
were walled and the gates generally shut at nightfall.
After that time entrance was difficult, if not impossible.
Matters had improved somewhat since Fynes Moryson's
time, when, even at dinner time, the gates of Dresden
were shut and the streets chained.^ But eighteenth-
century tourists constantly refer to the closing of the
gates at nightfall as a matter of course.' Says Dr. Moore:
"We left Milan at midnight, and arrived the next day
at Tiuin before the shutting of the gates." *

When going to Rotterdam, James Edward Smith and
liis party had taken a gorgeous coach "lined with red
velvet and drawn by three horses abreast." On their
arrival "the gates were shut," and they "were obliged
to seek a lodging in the suburbs; nor was that easy to be
had. . . . The manner, indeed, of the Dutch in general
is quite opposite to what the French call accucillante."^
Facts of this sort may now and then explain the appar-
ent indifference of travelers to notable sights along' the
road or in small towns: they are merely trying in their
haste to escape a night of exposure outside the gates.

If we were to place the discussion of eighteenth-century
custom-houses along with the discussion of robberies,
we should doubtless follow what, in the opinion of many

156

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

tourists of that time, would appear to be a natural order.
Throughout the greater part of Europe a narrow-minded
policy of commercial exchange hampered the free move-
ment of merchandise across frontiers. Where a country-
was split up into a variety of unrelated governments,
each insisting upon its rights, foreign commerce obviously
suffered in proportion to the restrictions laid upon it.^
The personal belongings of the tourist were treated in
much the same way as all merchandise.

Numerous passages in eighteenth-century books of
travel comment upon the ever-recurring examination
of the travelers' personal luggage. This is, even now,
no special pleasure, but a century and a half ago it was
an endless vexation, often involving the entire repacking
of one's effects — in so far as they were not confiscated
— and the payment of heavy duties. One could often
escape by bribing the officials, but that put some strain
upon a sensitive conscience. Yet without some such
help one was liable to be held up for hours, while the
contents of trunks and portmanteaus were spread over
the ground at the pleasiire of the officials. In view of the
liability to confiscation tourists were warned; "Since it
is impossible to know what goods are forbidden in dif-
ferent countries, information on that head should be
had before foreigners enter into another territory, in
order to avoid many inconveniences which might arrive
from trifles: in some countries the whole luggage is con-
fiscated if prohibited goods are found with them, and
the owners condemned to imprisonment, or to pay a
heavy fine." ^

Very illuminating is the advice as to the amount and
character of the luggage a traveler should carry. The
"expence of the carriage of it ... in some countries
amounts," we are told, "to much more than the passage
of his person and servant." ^ If the stage-coach or dil-
igence was too heavily loaded, part of the luggage was
left behind, and the traveler got it again when he could!
And, finally, travelers were "frequently charged" at the

157

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

inns "accordinj:: to the quantity of ba^.ciagc and con-
veniences" they carried with them.* "For going any
distance short and high trunks are preferable to long
and low ones; because they can be put upon any car-
riage whatever. The solidity of a trunk is also one of
its necessary qualities, it being sometimes most unmer-
cifully handled by the Custom-House ollicers. Travel-
lers should never pennit revenue officers to visit two
trunks at the same time, as the owner's eyes and atten-
tion may be fixed on one, at the great hazard of his being
pillaged by the other." '

We can attempt no systematic account of the customs
regulations in different countries, but we may cite a few
typical cases, and may well begin with the ordinary e.\-
perience of the tourist landing at Calais. This is pre-
sented in considerable detail in the most popular guide-
book of the middle of the eighteenth century: "Upon
approaching the town, you see several batteries of cannon
planted on the shore, to keep the coast clear in war time.
Coming ashore, you'll meet with men-waiters who speak
English, and make it their business to ply there, on Eng-
lish vessels coming in, and who will conduct you and
attend you in Calais, till you have got into your post-
chaise for Paris. Having pitched upon one of these, you
are conducted by a soldier upon the guard, which is al-
ways mounted upon the quay, to a searching oflicc just
by, where you must give in your name and quality, the
purpose of your coming over, and intended tour: thence
you are shown into a small inner room and very ci\'ily
searched by the proper officer, who only just presses
upon your coat-pockets or outer garments; aftenvards
the soldier conducts you to the governor's house, where
you are shewn to the governor. When this farce is over,
you are at liberty to proceed to your inn, whither you
are attended by the person or servant whom you pitched
upon at the water-side. There are several good inns
at Calais, as the Golden Anns, the Golden Head, the
French Horn, the Table Roval, and the Silver Lion, the

15S

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

last of which, kept by Grandsirc, is reckoned the best.
When you have refreshed yourself, you had best ^o your-
self to the custom-house, where you will find your bag-
Kaj^e has been carried by porters from the vessel, and will
be there searched, to prevent your brin^in;:^ in anything
new of a foreign manufacture. They allow only one watch
to each person, and if they find any new cloathes, they
will stop them. After your baggage has been searched,
you had better have your trunk plum?jed with a leaden
stamp for Paris; for this will prevent the trouble of any
further search of your baggage upon the road, or its
being carried to the custom-house when you come to
Paris: but you must take care not to open the custom-
house cordage and plumbing till you get to that metrop-
olis; for on going out of Calais, and at several other gar-
ison towns, both your Calais custom-house pass (which
they give you in writing and which you must take care
of) and also the plumbing of your trunk are examined.
Therefore your best way is to take out at the custom-
house at Calais what necessaries you may want on the
road. The fees at the custom-house for the pass, for
your cloathes and necessaries, and for the plumbing
your trunks are very trifling; but if they arc civil and do
not tumble your cloathes, it is customary to give the
ofTicer half a crown. The porters who carry your goods
from the ship to the custom-house, and from the cus-
tom-house to the inn, arc like our watermen, never satis-
fied; about a livre for carrying each trunk will pay them;
and three livres when you get into your post-chaise, will
be sufTicient for your attendant, who keeps close to you
till you are gone, and shows you anything the town affords,
which is but indifferent. " *

In France duties were "laid on all kinds of merchandise
either brought in or carried out of the kingdom, and aLso
on the import and export from and to the provinces." ^
Besides these there were octroi charges on many articles
collected at the gates of cities.^ But oftentimes the cus-
toms officials were not averse to increasing their incomes

159

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

by politely failing to discover dutiable articles. "We
were stopt," says Essex, "as we were going out of the Gates
of Calis by the Custom-house Officers who wanted to
search our baggage, but seeing a 12 sou piece in our valet's
hand, they turned their attention that way and suffered
us to pass." '

On Smollett's return to France from Italy in 1766, he
notes: "As for our small trunks or portmanteaus, which
we carried along with us, they were examined at Antibes;
but the ceremony was performed very superficially, in
consequence of tipping the searcher with half a crown, which
is a wonderful conciliator at all the bureaus in this coun-
try." 2

James Edward Smith remarks at Lyons: "Our trunks
passed the custom-house for a little gratuity unopened,
which is generally the best way." ' In general, the officials
on the Savoy frontier were very lenient, notes the Abbe
Coyer in 1775.*

But it is time to turn to Italy. The number of separate
governments in the peninsula rendered the tourist liable
to frequent inspection,* although, as Nugent observes,
"In travelling thro' Italy . . . what is extremely con-
venient, if the custom-officers should want to see your
baggage, showing your passport, you are exempted from
any kind of duty." ^

A still better plan, apart from the inconvenience of
having no use of one's extra clothing and other possessions,
was to seal up the luggage and thus escape further visi-
tation at the successive custom-houses. This is repeatedly
recommended by tourists in France, in Italy, in Germany, in
the Austrian Low Countries.' Even individual cities re-
tained the right to search everything unsealed that passed
through the gates.^ Of Pistoia, for example, Northall
remarks: "At the port gate of the town they search all
baggage, to see if there is any tobacco ; and if they find any
quantity above a pound they seize everything. They also
seize all such apparel that has not been worn ; at least they
oblige strangers to pay duty for it, if only a pair of shoes." ^

160

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

We cannot afford space for much detail, but we note that
in Keysler's day certain cities had an especially evil repu-
tation for the venality of the customs officials : ' ' The cus-
toms and duties are nowhere on so bad a footing as at
Milan; a small gratuity to the officers, who importunately
ask it, puts an end to all further search and questions;
whereas, in Piedmont, the extreme severity on this head
often puts travellers to a great deal of unnecessary delay
and trouble." '

As for Rome, the goal of nearly every tourist, the cus-
toms examination afforded no special annoyance,^ except
that one must drive at once to the dogana before going to
the inn and submit to a search for prohibited books.'
Travelers occasionally complain of the severity with which
their books and papers were scrutinized. Says a tourist
in 174 1 : "It was impracticable for us to keep a journal in a
country where our papers and books were so often liable to
be looked into by bigotted inquisitors." *

On the land journey from Rome to Naples the ordinary
tourist was little troubled. James Edward Smith's party
escaped unexamined by paying a shabby-looking official a
bribe worth a shilling.^ But upon merchandise in any
quantity the tariffs imposed a heavy burden, written, as
they were, "in an unintelligible and ambiguous jargon,
variable according to the caprice and greed of the col-
lectors." ^

The return journey to Rome from Naples was more an-
noying, especially during the first half-day, since tourists
were supposed to be laden with commodities of Naples —
particularly silk stockings — which should pay export duties.
Bromley was stopped six or seven times for examinations,
but a small bribe cooled the zeal of the inspectors.''

In striking contrast with the niggling inquisitiveness in
some parts of Italy was the laxity of the examination at
Venice. Even late in the seventeenth century Burnet
notes with amazement: "Tho' we had a mullet's^ load
of trunks and portmanteaus, yet none offered to ask us,
either coming or going, what we were or what we carried

161

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

with us."* And Misson tells the same tale: "The toll-
gatherers saw us enter into the Lagiinas without speaking
one word to us, tho' we had a considerable quantity of
baggage; but in other parts of Italy the tolls are very
frequent and troublesome." '

With Venice we may conclude our rapid survey of Italian
custom-houses. On summarizing the experiences of tour-
ists we find that beyond an occasional petty exaction or
confiscation one suffered no more actual loss in* passing
through the custom-houses of Italy than in some other parts
of Europe. But the multiplication of frontiers subjected
every passing stranger to frequent delay and annoyance
and habituated him to the belief that every small official
could be bought.

We now turn to Germany. The frequency of the chal-
lenge of custom-house officials was one of the least pleas-
urable experiences of travel in Germany. As elsewhere
observed, Germany had a vast number of petty govern-
ments, each practically independent and each legally war-
ranted in imposing an}"" duties it pleased. If this right had
been pushed to the limit, travel and commerce would have
been practically impossible. As a matter of fact, the tour-
ist, proxnded with a passport and obviously not a merchant,
escaped with comparative immunity. Misson, indeed, says
that in his day "Travellers are not stopped on account
of customs or imposts, either in Holland or Germany." ^
But later tourists tell a somewhat different talc.'' Dr. Moore
went to Vienna, as so many other English tourists did.
"On arriving at Vienna," says he, "the postillions drive
directly to the Custom-house, where the baggage under-
goes a very severe scrutiny, which neither fair words nor
money can mitigate."^ Books in particular were retained
to be carefully scrutinized.

Baron Riesbeck, going by way of Passau to Vienna about
a decade before the outbreak of the French Revolution, says :
"At Engellhastzell our baggage was searched. Every thing
was conducted in the best order possible, and with a great

162

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

deal of gentleness; the putting of the custom-house seals
to the merchandise of our vessel took up a whole day. . . .
As for me, the searchers directed their whole attention to my
books ; they took away from me Young's ' Night Thoughts,'
which I had purchased out of compassion from a poor
student at Saltzburg, but suffered Gibbon's 'Works' to
pass."'

In the last decade of the century Mariana Starke com-
plains that when she crossed the frontier of Carinthia the
baggage was examined in the open street of a miserable
town and small parcels were thrown under the coach by
the thievish officials, to be gathered up later. "They seize
gold and silver lace, snuff, and tobacco, and for unmade
silks, gauzes, etc., they oblige you to deposit double the
worth, to be paid back, however, when you quit the im-
perial territories. They accept no fees, and are slower in
their operations than it is possible to conceive." ^

All in all, the most enlightened state in Germany was
Prussia. But the policy of Frederick the Great was to in-
crease exports as much as possible and to reduce imports
to the minimum. In 1766 the importation of four hundred
and ninety commodities hitherto admitted on the payment
of heavy duties was absolutely prohibited. The tourist
incautious enough to be detected with any of these things
among his effects — a bit of porcelain, for example — suf-
fered accordingly. And the multitude of customs officials
made concealment difficult.

But the region in which the tourist's progress was most
interrupted by customs examinations and the collection
of tolls from vessels, even though he might himself escape
paying duties, was the Palatinate and the Valley of the
Rhine.^ In the Palatinate, we are told, "everything was
taxed but the air," and all goods that passed through were
subject to some import. The Rhine was in particular the
paradise of the toll-gatherer. Tolls were "exacted by
every distinct potentate and in every distinct jurisdiction."^
Between Mainz and Andemach, a distance of sixty-three
English miles, there were ten tolls to pay. Tourists natu-

163

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

rally enough express their surprise that, in view of the im-
mense number of exactions of custom-houses, the river
traffic was as great as it was.^ A vessel plying between Co-
logne and Amsterdam or Rotterdam paid twelve tolls on
every trip.^ The tolls were attended to by the master of
the vessel. Not unnaturally, tourists, who had been "sub-
ject from the officers of the revenue to the most disagree-
able enquiries and vexatious delays" in various despotic
states of Germany, felt "a sensation peculiarly agreeable
on entering Hamburg," where they had simply to give
their names "at the gates without any examination or
custom-house embarrassments . ' ' '

As for the Austrian Low Countries, the records of tour-
ists in the second half of the eighteenth century show the
same petty interference that we have noted elsewhere.
As a typical instance, take the experience of James Essex,
a very respectable English tourist, who in 1773 crossed the
frontier of the Low Coimtries at Dunkerque: "When we
came to the first Barrier about halfe a mile from the City,
we were stopt by the Custom house Officer and paid 6 d. to
avoid a search, when we entered the Gates we were stopt
by the Guard and obliged to write our names and the place
of our abode, which was sent to the Governor." ^ At
Nieuport, says he, "we met with some trouble from the
Custom house Officers who in our absence open'd every
part of our baggage & tumbled all our things in a disagree-
able manner." ^ At Ghent we "were stopt at the Gate by
the Custom house officers to examine our baggage and by
the Guard to give in our names to be sent to the Governor." ^

Another totuist, who was on the Continent between 1787
and 1789, complains that at Ostend, "Everything was
thrown into beautiful confusion, and besides half-a-crown
for three yards of small cord, and two leaden seals about
the size of a half -penny, I was sentenced to pay one shilling
and sixpence for two pairs of unwashed stockings. My
new shoes escaped taxation by putting them on in presence
of the inquisitors." '

In comparison with other parts of Europe tourists in

164

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

Holland enjoyed comparative immunity from annoyance
at the custom-house, a policy in harmony with the liberal
views of the Dutch on a multitude of other matters in the
eighteenth century.

Far less agreeable was the reception that the returning
tourist met at Dover. After he had traversed most of Eu-
rope and his heart beat faster as he neared his native land,
his enthusiasm was chilled and his temper embittered by
the exactions at the custom-house. An instance or two
will suffice. Horace Walpole paid a duty of seven and a
half guineas on "a common set of coffee things that had
cost me but five."' On November ii, 1764, the Right
Honorable Thomas Townshend writes to George Selwyn:
"The strictness of the Custom-House officers still con-
tinues. Mr. Rigby brought one fine suit of clothes, which
he saved by wearing it when he landed. Mr. Elliot saved
a coat and waistcoat by the same means, but not having
taken the same precautions for the breeches, they were
seized and burnt." ^ And the Earl of Tyrone, on December
20 of the same year, in a letter to Selwyn, says: " I did not
recover my sea-sickness enough to enable me to obey your
commands from Dover, where we were very well treated
by the officers who, after having searched our trunks very
strictly, made every allowance which could be reasonably
expected, and did not insist on confining us to a single suit,
on seeing we had nothing which had not been worn. . . .
You must wear your gold, for not even a button will be
admitted o" ^ The very allowance that the genial earl
makes for the officials shows how rigorous the ordeal com-
monly was.

VI

In these days of quick and easy transportation few places
are so remote from civilization as to be long deprived of
the ordinary necessaries of life, or even of luxuries, if one
desires to procure them. But a century and a half ago
remoteness often meant privation, and this fact had much
to do with shaping the route of the tourist.

165

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

Perhaps the most characteristic feature of English life
in the eighteenth century as compared with the sixteenth
was the general increase in comfort. There had, indeed,
been great luxury and magnificence in the sixteenth cen-
tury, but there had been a strange lack of the things that
in our day appear indispensable to one's well-being. In
these particulars the seventeenth and eighteenth centiuies
wrought a great change. Englishmen in the eighteenth
century ate better and lived more cleanly than their ances-
tors and were accustomed to a higher standard of comfort
than was common abroad. English wealth, as we have
seen, was more generally diffused than on the Continent,
for England was distinguished above France, Italy, and
Germany by the existence of a rich and independent
middle class.

This increase of comfort in England, to say nothing of
the fact that English travelers were not noted for their
meekness and long-suffering, did not make them the
readier to put up with privation and annoyance on their
pleasure trips. But the English tourists of the eighteenth
century do not appear to us to set their demands unduly
high. They never dreamed of some of the luxuries that to
wealthy modem travelers have become necessities, and one
cannot go through the long list of trials that they endured
on the Continental tour without being surprised that com-
plaints were not more numerous and more bitter. The
ordinary mishaps of the road were not few. Not seldom
the coach overturned, the straps or, more generally, the
ropes of the harness broke, or the carriage went to pieces
like the "one hoss shay." The English tourist's ideal of
comfort was rudely disturbed as soon as he crossed the
Channel. The beds were not to his liking; there was a sad
lack of real cleanliness, even though plates and glasses
might be brightly polished. He could not get his thick
mutton chop, his cut of roast beef, or his tankard of Eng-
lish ale. He snuffed suspiciously at the strange and highly
seasoned dishes, so different from the unadorned products of
English cookery — the fruit tarts, the mutton pies, the plain

i66

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES ^

boiled vegetables. Nor did he always adjust himself easily
to simple living unlike his own — the macaroni, the strong
cheeses, the thin garlic soups. And before the nameless
messes offered at the roadside inn, even a strong stomach
recoiled.

In the matter of housing the English tourist faced an-
other serious problem. The Dowager Countess of Carlisle,
in writing to Selwyn from Montpellier about 1780, explains
that she has succeeded in securing a house for Lord Warwick
for his summer residence, and adds that the task "is always
a difficult one where the EngHsh are concerned, for they are
used, and like to be comfortable, and must therefore pay
for it." ^ But in France and Italy and some other parts of
Europe even lavish expenditure did not always secure com-
fort in winter. For that matter, a good part of the Conti-
nent to this day uses a pitifully small amount of fuel in
attempting to warm a living apartment during the colder
months.

It is, indeed, obvious that there was varied annoyance
awaiting the traveler everywhere, but it came to a climax
in Italy, and this, notwithstanding the fact that Italy was
for many reasons the most attractive part of Europe to the
tourist. One who has imagined that the experiences on the
roads commonly traveled in Italy were an unmixed delight
should read the directions offered to travelers even as late
as the end of the eighteenth century ,2 or the middle of the
nineteenth century .^ Lady Morgan enumerates some of
the trials to be expected in Italy a generation after the
French Revolution, and adds: "Most EngHsh travellers,
and indeed all persons of rank, escape a great part of these
annoyances, by travelling with a courier, who, constantly
in advance of the carriages, removes all difficulty by force
of authority or of gold. We, however, purposely avoided
the retaining this useful domestic; partly from economy,
and partly from a general desire of coming as closely as
possible in contact with a population of whom we should
have such frequent occasion to speak. We encountered,
accordingly, our full share of the inconveniences of Italian

167

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

travelling; and we speak as we felt, and as the mass of the
people must feel, who necessarily travel without couriers." ^

VII

Not the least of annoyances to the modem tourist would
be the inefficiency of the postal system. So accustomed
are we to the telegraph, the telephone, and the express
train that we cannot at once realize the isolation of the
eighteenth-century tourist as soon as he left his own
land. By the aid of the government registration bureaus
he could be tracked from one town to another, but un-
less unusual effort was made to follow him he was speed-
ily lost to view. Even if he kept his friends at home
constantly informed by letter of his whereabouts, there
was ample time to go to a far distant region before they
could get word from him. It is true that in some parts
of Gennany the postal arrangements were safe enough,
but they were very slow. As for Italy, Walpole says
in one of his letters, "I am sorry to find that it costs
about six weeks to say a word at Pisa and have an answer
in London." * And this dawdling inefficiency was pecul-
iarly striking in comparison with the achievements of
the Romans eighteen centuries earlier. "It may be
doubted whether there existed in the world in the year
1800 a postal service that could compare in speed and
efficiency with the express ser\'ice of the time of Cn^sar." ^

The postage for letters was very heavy, — the ordi-
nary charge was a shilling, — but, in Italy at all events,
one had no assurance that they would escape being opened
by prying officials or that they would be delivered at all.
Lady Mary Montagu repeatedly complains that her
own letters were tampered with in Italian cities,* or lost
on the way. Writing in 1741 from Ttuin she says: "I take
this opportunity of writing to you on many subjects in
a freer manner than I durst do by the post, knowing
that all letters are opened both here and in other places,
which occasions them to be lost, besides other incon-

168

SOME DANGERS AND ANNOYANCES

vcnicnccs that may happen." ' In another letter dated
thirteen years later, she says: "I am quite siek with
vexation at the interruption of our eorrespondence. I
have sent six letters since the date of the last which you
say you have received; and three addressed to my sister,
lady Mar, none of which, you say, are arrived." ^

Many of the annoyances enumerated in the foregoing
pages are taken almost at random, for there is no lack of
material to choose from. The delij.^hts of the; grand tour
must, indeed, as a rule have overbalanced the vexations
or sensible Englishmen would not have continued for
generations to travel on the Continent. But the fact
remains that even under favorable conditions the tourist
could hardly avoid a succession of petty troubles that
sorely tried his patience. Of no great moment when
taken singly, nevertheless, like the persistent buzzing
of a gnat, they finally wore uj^on the nerves of the least
captious of travelers. One to whom carping criticism was
a delight found .sufficient material in a single tour to supply
him for a lifetime.

169

CHAPTER IX

THE COST OF TRAVEL
I

Of necessity, some of the expenses of travel have been
occasionally brought to our attention in dealing with
other matters. A few words may here be added in more
connected form. This book is, of course, in no sense
a treatise on economics, and cannot venture to invade
a field that in a peculiar sense requires the knowledge
of a specialist. But some indication of the cost of travel
is desirable, even though we may well decline the task
of making a detailed estimate of the expense of an eight-
eenth-century tour as compared with one in our day.
What an old-fashioned grand tour would cost was, on
the face of things, far less than it would now be if one were
to travel in the eighteenth-century fashion, for the price
of nearly everytliing, when measured in pounds, shil-
lings, and pence is, in a mere numerical statement, far
greater now than it was a century and a half ago. Meas-
ured in general commodities, the difference is less marked,
but the comparison is complicated by the fact that ma-
chinery and rapid transportation have cheapened a host
of products once wrought by hand and laboriously dis-
tributed by slow boats and carts. Even if the apparent
cost were the same, we should still have to determine
the relative purchasing power of the money expended.

In our day the toiuist can dispense with carrying
a host of things once necessary to his comfort on the
journey. But, on the other hand, the modem tourist
counts as ordinary necessaries of life many things that
were never dreamed of a century and a half ago. The
tourist of our time passes in a luxurious train from Paris

170

THE COST OF TRAVEL

to Lyons and Marseilles and Rome at an expense of a
few francs and in the course of a few hours. Comfort-
ably seated in his motor-car he can now in a single sum-
mer cover far more territory than the earlier tourist could
in his entire three years abroad.

II

It is not many years a^o that travelers in Europe used
to carry about their waists a purse in the form of a belt,
filled with gold coin. Even yet a few pieces may often
prove useful in an emergency, for gold is a quick solvent
of many international differences. But to-day few tourists
load themselves down with precious metal. Under pres-
ent conditions, to procure any reasonable amount of
money in return for paper recognized as good is .simplic-
ity itself. A letter of credit, payable at any one of a
long list of banks — and few towns are so small as to
have no bank; travelers' checks, accepted not only at
banks, but at hotels and by tradesmen; and a multitude
of reputable offices of exchange ready for a trifling charge
to return the just value of one's gold or silver in the money
of any country in Europe — these and other facilities
have removed one of the most serious obstacles that the
earlier tourist had to face.

The somewhat primitive conditions which prevailed
in the sixteenth century were, it is true, largely amelior-
ated before the beginning of the eighteenth. The eight-
eenth century carried on an extensive commerce and had
a tolerably complete system of banking and exchange
that had been slowly developing for generations. Far
earlier, indeed, had been the establishment of many of the
famous banks of Europe. The Bank of Venice, made
necessary by a great international commerce, dated
from the twelfth century; the banks of Florence were
already flourishing in the fourteenth century; and before
the beginning of the eighteenth century the banks of
Barcelona, Genoa, Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Hamburg,

171

THE COST OF TRAVEL

Nuremberg, and the great Bank of England were on a firm
foundation. The Bank of Vienna was founded in 1703,
the Bank of Breslau in 1765. In France the disastrous
failure of Law's Bank in 1720 delayed the founding of
banks maintained by the government, so that it was not
until 1776, in the reign of Louis XVI, that the Caisse
d'Escompte was established. On the other hand, France
had mmierous private banks, a list of which for the year
1785 is given in Thierry's AlmanacJi du Voyageur.^

With a secure banking system in every country that
the tourist visited, he could put aside his fears that he
might be unable to procure funds, provided, of course,
that he could establish his identity and his claim. He
might, indeed, as already suggested, largely dispense with
banks by carrjdng gold on his person and exchanging it
when necessary. But the imprudence and uselcssness
of keeping large sums of ready money where they might
be the prey of a chance robber were sufficiently evident
to most travelers, who provided themselves with letters
of credit or bills of exchange,^ the latter being money-
orders addressed to a particular person, who was directed
to pay a certain sum to the individual designated. Al-
though the convenience and safety of letters of credit were
recognized before the eighteenth century, the convenience
was somewhat diminished by the fact that the credits
were to be honored at the particular bank named in the
letter. Evelyn, for example, in 1645, had a letter of credit
payable at Venice.^ Circular letters of credit payable
at any one of a long list of banks appear to have first
come into use in the nineteenth century.

An eighteenth-centiu*y traveler commonly had his
funds credited to him at some bank in a city that he ex-
pected to visit and there drew at his convenience. When
Sterne was abroad, "All moneys received were to be
sent up to London by Sterne's agents, to Selwin, banker
and correspondent of Panchaud and Foley, in Rue St.
Sauveur, Paris. In turn the banking firm at Paris was
to remit to Messrs. Brousse et Fils of Toulouse."*

172

THE COST OF TRAVEL

But the methods of eighteenth-century bankers were
cumbrous and slow, particularly if the tourist applying for
money happened to be a stranger. How exasperating
the procedure was, even as late as 1829, we may judge
from the delays involved in cashing a ■ draft in Paris.
"My draft is presented, but it must be stamped; and I
am directed to the public office, about half a mile off.
Arrived, I wait my turn to be served, and, after paying a
duty to the government for the registry, return to the
banker, who receives my bill, and will account with me
next week." *

It is not altogether surprising that the bankers of the
eighteenth century should have insisted upon convincing
proofs of identity. A banker at Marseilles or Florence
or Vienna could not hope to communicate with London
and receive an answer under several weeks. No such
delay now meets the tourist, if he is obviously not an im-
postor, but even yet the loss of time involved in drawing
money at a French provincial bank is often very wearing
on the nerves.

Ill

When the tourist had succeeded in turning his bill
of exchange or letter of credit into ready money, he was
by no means at the end of his troubles, for the variety of
money current on the Continent was an endless annoyance.
We cannot do more than touch lightly upon the compli-
cated systems of currency in the countries that we are
chiefly considering, for our main purpose is not to know
the precise value in modem currency of this or that coin,
or to make a critical survey of prices, but to consider how
the variety of monetary systems affected the tourist.

In the time of the Roman Empire one could go from the
island of Britain to the Euphrates and everywhere present
without hesitation money bearing the imperial stamp.
Far different was it in the Middle Ages, when a multitude
of independent kingdoms and principalities and free cities
established themselves and left as a legacy to after gen-.

173

THE COST OF TRAVEL

erations a bewildering variety of monetary systems based
on different principles. Such, too, was the state of things
in the eighteenth century. As soon as the tourist passed
outside of France into Germany or into Italy, he was
compelled to exchange his money, or a portion of it, for
use in the district where he was, and in emergencies he
was unmercifully fleeced by unscrupulous men who took
advantage of his necessity and his ignorance. James
Edward Smith cites an experience of his at Naples : " Want-
ing to change a sequin, the value of which in the silver *of
the place we well knew, these thieves offered us to the
amount of three or four shillings less than the true sum.
We applied to some of the most decent of the neigh-
borhood, one after another, who all concurred in the
same account." ^ Finally, an appeal to a soldier on duty
brought the true change.

Typical of what might be expected anywhere was Mis-
son's experience: "We meet so often with different sorts
of money in Germany, that 'tis impossible to avoid los-
ing by them. The best way is to make sufficient provision
in Holland of gold ducats and silver money of the em-
peror's coin, which are current everywhere without any
abatement; but something must be allowed for the ex-
change of those pieces." ^

Nugent forewarns the tourist in Germany: "In a
country divided into so many petty sovereignties there
must be a great variety of money. Almost every free
town coins small pieces of its own, which are current over
the whole empire." ^ And on the quality of this sort
of currency he adds interesting comments. "The German
coin in general is neither true sterling nor true weight,
being dipt, it is thought, more than any coin in Europe.
The pieces that ought to be round are all shapes. The
corruptors, particularly the Jews, do not trouble them-
selves to file it, but snip large bits off of the sides: This,
with the variety of money that is current here, is no small
disadvantage to trade, and sinks the value of estates very
sensibly. As a knowledge, therefore, of the coins is

174

THE COST OF TRAVEL

extremely necessary for a traveller, we shall give here a
short account of the several species that are current." ^
The "short account" fills seven pages. ^

Similar complication was presented by the money of
Italy. "Every little state and principality in Italy,"
says Nugent, "coins its own money, which a traveller
ought to have some knowledge of before he goes to that
country, otherwise he is exposed to a great deal of trouble
and perplexity, and liable moreover to be imposed upon.
We shall therefore give some account of the several coins
of the principal states and cities of Italy." The enumer-
ation fills five pages. ^ "In Lombardy especially, which
is divided into so many principalities, in each state the
money differs; so that strangers not acquainted with this
circumstance are liable to be considerable loosers. The
money therefore that a person ought to carry about
him in Lombardy is, in gold, pistoles ^ and half pistoles
of Italy; in silver, Genovins, Milanese ducats, and the
like; and as soon as you come to the confines, you should
change and leave behind you the money of the country
you have gone thro', and take the same sum in the coin
of the country you are going to enter." ^

If the traveler's tour included Venice, he might count
upon some hours of study before he could pretend to un-
derstand the system of currency. Even where he was not
cheated outright into receiving false money, he was in
constant danger of mistaking the value of unfamiliar
coins and of getting insufficient change. Consider the
state of the average tourist's mind on reading the follow-
ing lucid explanation: "At Venice, and in most parts
of that republic's dominions, they keep their accounts in
Lires, Soldi, and Pichioli, reckoning 12 Pichioli to i Soldo,
and 20 Soldi to i Lira. But the bank reckons by Ducats
and Grosses, reckoning 24 Grosses to the Ducat. The
current monies are, I. The Pistole of Venice, Florence,
Spain, and Louis d'ors worth 29 Lires. II. Another sort
of Pistoli, valued sometimes at more than 30 Lires. III.
The Pistole of Italy, Genoa, Turin, Milan, Parma, Mantua,

175

THE COST OF TRAVEL

Modena, and Geneva, worth 28 Lires. IV. The Sequin,
worth 17 Lires. V. The Ducat of gold or Hungarian
Ducat, worth 16 Lires. VL The Ducatoon, worth
8 Lires 3^. VIL The silver Crown, worth 9 Lires 13
Soldi. VIII. The Silver Ducat, worth 6 Lires 4 Soldi.
IX. The Crusade of Genoa, called Genoins, worth n
Lires 10 Soldi, and sometimes 11 Lires 15 Soldi. X. The
Philip of Milan, worth 8 Lires 10 Soldi. XI. The Tcs-
toon. worth 2 Lires 14 Soldi. XII. The Julio or 3 d.
XIII. The Lira, worth 20 Soldi. XIV. The SolSo,
worth 12 Pichioli. XV. The Gross, worth 32 PichioH." »
And this was a mere beginning. In Tuscany one met
the sequin, the scudo, the li\Te, and the paul. The Papal
States had a separate system, and so had the Kingdom
of Naples, and other parts of the country ^ — Bergamo,
Bologna, Genoa, Messina, Palermo, Milan, Turin. Nugent
calls attention to the fact, that, for the sake of aiding
the tourist, he has specified on the margin of his book
"where one prince's or state's territory begins and where
another ends"; and he suggests that "gentlemen will
not take more money into a neighboring state than is
necessary to defray the expenses of their journey to it,
since it will be useless to them." ^ But, ob\'iously, it was
no easy matter for tourists to estimate precisely the sum
required to carry them without embarrassment over
the borders of one petty state into another equally petty,
but having its own system of currency. Even in the
United Provinces the tourist had to be cautious. He
was ad\'ised not to take too many "schillings" with him,
since the metal was base and "not worth a third part
of the value" it went at, and, naturally, the value differed
in one province and another.* He should require bank
notes rather than current money, since no coin was taken
except "at the intrinsic worth." ^ Similar conditions
met one in other countries of Europe, but, as a rule, Spain,
Hungary, Russia, and the Scandinavian Peninsula were
not included in the Continental tour.

176

THE COST OF TRAVEL

IV

There is abundant evidence that to English travelers
the expense of living abroad appeared on the whole low as
compared with the cost in England. This we shall have
occasion more than once to verify. Beyond an irreducible
minimum one's personal expenses depended, of course, upon
the individual. These may engage our attention a little
later. But there were outlays that were inevitable — for
transportation, for inns, for servants, for beggars. We
must note, however, that prices were constantly chang-
ing,' and that any figures here given merely indicate in
some measure what might be ordinarily expected. One
inevitable expense was the passage money to and from the
Continent. The price from Brighton to Dieppe was a
guinea for each passenger, and the packet boat sailed twice
a week.2 Mariana Starke, near the end of the eighteenth
century, returned from the Continent to Yarmouth by
way of Cuxhaven. Each passenger was obliged to procure
from the British agent a permission "to embark on board
the packet." "This permission," says she, "costs for each
gentleman and lady twelve shillings, sixpence"; "for each
servant, six shillings, sixpence." The ordinary passage
money was three guineas. Servants paid half price.^ Be-
sides all this, says she, "Each Gentleman or Lady pays one
guinea for provisions to the Captain, who finds everything,
wine excepted; and each Servant pays half-price. We
gave as a present to the Master of the Packet, a couple of
guineas; to the Stewards half a guinea, and to the Ship's
Company one guinea." *

The shortest, cheapest, and most popular route was
from Dover to Calais. "Travellers setting out from Dover
agree for their passage in the packet-boat to Calais, which
is half a guinea for a gentleman, and five shillings for each
servant or attendant; the mate and cabin-boy, who wait
upon you on board, expect one shilHng each as their per-
quisite. If you are several in company, and you would

177

THE COST OF TRAVEL

hire a packet or vessel to yourselves, the price is five guin-
eas. Before you embark, you carry your baggage to the
custom house, where it is searched, for which you pay six-
pence, and six-pence more, called head-money. The dis-
tance from Dover to Calais is twenty-one miles." ^

Of the expense of posting and coaching we have abundant
data, though we can aflord space for only a few illus-
trations.

For going by post from Calais to Paris the cost for one
person with two horses and a driver was £7 gs. ^l^d* or
171 livres, of which the hire of the chaise came to seventy-
two livres. For two persons with three horses the price
rose to £9 55. S^d., or 212 livres, 5 sols. If one had an
EngHsh chaise the charge was £io 165. i}^d.

One unpleasant feature of posting in France was that
for some of the posts, styled royal, though in nothing supe-
rior to the ordinary posts, a double charge was exacted.
Moreover, the traveler was expected to make no sudden
changes in his plans. If by post he had set out, by post he
must continue. Sterne's post-chaise had broken down near
Lyons, but he had to pay for two posts beyond Lyons, be-
cause he had started by post ! ^ Smollett made his famous
journey through France to Italy in 1763, and carefully
noted his expenses. Says he: "My journey from Paris to
Lyons, including the hire of the coach, and all expenses on
the road, has cost me, within a few shillings, forty loui*
dores." ' Two years later, having had his coach refitted
and having seciu*ed fresh horses and another postilion, he
paid at the rate of a louis d'or a day.*

For going from Calais to Nice in a coach with four per-
sons, or in two post-chaises with a servant on horseback,
Smollett reckons about one hundred and twenty pounds as
a liberal estimate for covering all expenses. James Edward
Smith, going from Avignon to Italy, hired a carriage "at
the rate of twelve livres a day, for as long as it might be
wanted to carry us as far as Nice." ^ "Either at Calais
or at Paris, you will always find a travelling coach or ber-
line, which you may buy for thirty or forty guineas, and

178

THE COST OF TRAVEL

this will serve very well to reconvey you to your own
country." ^

With the experiences recorded above it is interesting to
compare those of a generation or two later. When Leigh
Hunt brought his family back from Italy he tells us: "On
our return from Italy to England, we travelled not by
post, but by vettura, that is to say, by easy stages of thirty
or^ forty miles a day, in a travelling carriage; the box of
which is turned into a chaise, with a calash over it. It is
drawn by three horses, occasionally assisted by mules.
We paid about eighty-two guineas EngHsh, for which some
ten of us (counting as six, because of the children) were to
be taken to Calais; to have a breakfast and dinner every
day on the road; to be provided with five beds at night,
each containing two persons; and to rest four days during
the joiuTiey, without further expense, in whatever places
and portions of time we saw fit." ^

Those who preferred the cheap stage-coach or the dili-
gence, with its early hours, could travel all over the coun-
try, though with less independence. Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu went from Paris to Lyons by diligence for "three
hundred Hvres," "all things paid." ^ For mere transporta-
tion one paid much less. "The stage-coach from Lyons to
Paris sets out from the Rue de Flandre, every other day,
at four in the morning. You pay seventy-five livres for
your place, and five sols per pounds for your baggage,
except twenty-five pounds which you have free." ^

From Rouen to Dieppe the stage-coach went through in
one day for six livres a person.^ Three-quarters of a century
later the price had somewhat advanced, but it still im-
pressed Hazlitt as very low. "Travelling is much cheaper
in France than England. The distance from Dieppe to
Rouen is thirty-six miles, and we only paid eight francs,
that is, six shillings and eight pence apiece, with two francs
more to the guide and postilion, which is not four pence a
mile, including all expenses." ^

For short trips the cheap public conveyance was a de-
cided convenience, and the time of starting was not always

179

THE COST OF TRAVEL

unreasonably early. "From Paris you may go to Ver-
sailles," says Nugent, "for five and twenty sols with the
coche, which sets out twice a day from the Rue Saint
Nicaise. You may likewise go with a carosse or stage-coach
that holds but four, for a French cro\ra each; or with, a
postchaise. Another way is by water for five sols as far as
Seve, which is half way, either with the boats of Seve or
S. Cloud. They set out at eight in the morning from Pont
Royal." »

We may now turn to Italy. Owing in part to the
wretched conditions of government in Italy, posting was
not so well managed as in France. De Brosses found it
"excessively dear." ^ He complains bitterly of the extor-
tion of the drivers and the owners of carriages in the north
of Italy, and brands them as the worst race that ever
crawled on the face of the earth.* His compatriot, De La
Lande, gives particidars: "In the State of Venice the
posts are very dear; the two horses of a chaise cost more
than eight French livres a post, except for the Venetian
nobles, who pay a third less, since they have all sorts of
pri\dleges in the State. If one forgets to take a posting
ticket before the departure, one pays much more besides." *

In the Roman State, "Every draught-horse is charged
at four pauls a post, unless it be a post-royal, when the
price is six pauls — the only post-royal in the Roman State
is out of Rome. Every pair of horses must be driven by a
Postillion, whose claim is two pauls a post, but who will
not be content without four — every saddle-horse is
charged at three pauls a post, unless it be a post-royal,
when the price is five — every extra draught-horse is
charged at three pauls a post; and to the driver, it is cus-
tomary to give two pauls, though he has no regular claim." '

On the other hand, many carriages were to be had in all
the small cities of Italy, and at a lower price than in France.
Commonly they were let by private owners.^ When Smol-
lett went to Rome by way of Siena, he hired a coach for
seven weeks for "less than three and a half guineas.''
At Rome itself, "For ten or twelve pistoles a month a gen-

i8o

THE COST OF TRAVEL

tleman may have a handsome coach and a pair of horses,
except at Lent or about Easter, when there is a great con-
course of strangers at Rome, and then they will ask four-
teen pistoles a month for a coach and a pair of horses." ^

How the cost of carriage hire worked out in actual prac-
tice may be gathered from a few trips actually taken. It
will be noted that the vetturino system was commonly the
most economical, and, assuming reasonable honesty on the
part of the conductor, by far the most satisfactory. As
a specimen we may note the journey of Mariana Starke
from Nice to Turin in May of 1792. For the carriage there
were six horses and for the courier a saddle horse, and the
cost was twenty-eight louis-d'ors. "Bearing our own ex-
penses at inns . . . amounted to a couple of crowns a day
for dinner and three for supper and beds; we were four
in number, besides our courier, who found himself." ^
The same writer records: "We paid from Rome to Flor-
ence, in May, 1793, forty Roman Sequins, buona ntano in-
clusive, for four mules to our English coach and three to
our servants' coach, which was found by the Voiturin.
We were four persons besides three servants — had one meal
a day — paid the waiters at inns — and gave our drivers
one Sequin each for good behaviour." ^

It is instructive to see how eighteenth-century condi-
tions still prevailed in the early nineteenth century. Haz-
litt says that at Turin "We were fortunate enough to find a
voiture going from Geneva to Florence with an English
lady and her niece. I bargained for the two remaining
places for ten guineas. . . . We were to be eight days on
the road." * From Florence he went to Rome by way of
Siena. "We did not meet," says he, "ten carriages on our
journey, a distance of a hundred and ninety-three miles,
and which it took us six days to accomplish. I may add that
we paid only seven louis for our two places in the voiture
(which, besides, we had entirely to ourselves) our expenses
on the road included. This is cheap enough." ^

Many travelers in Italy took the route along the Adri-
atic, particularly on the return from Rome, and went by

181

THE COST OF TRAVEL

wa}' of Loretto to Bologna. For this journey James Ed-
ward Smith and his party paid his vetturino "eighteen se-
quins,^ all expenses included." '

The other chief trip in Italy was that from Rome to
Naples and return. For the journey to Naples Smith and
his party paid "a little more than three guineas, all ex-
penses included, except la bttona mano." ' For a distance of
one hundred and forty-one miles this seems very reasonable.

The return trip cost nearly a guinea and a half more, but
included a stop of two days at Caserta and a day at Monte
Cassino. Smith's concluding remark is worth noting. "In
this jomiiey we proxdded our own accommodations at the
inns, by way of experiment ; but were not so well satisfied
as when the whole was left to oiu: voiturin." ••

As compared with France, or even Italy, Germany was
ill-provided \\'ith posting facilities for those who wished to
travel in comfort. A tourist did wisely to provide his own
carriage and to trust as little as possible to the springless
public conveyances or the lumbering vehicles that he might
chance to find for his private use. As a whole, the country
was poor, and the cost of transportation was in a measure
adjusted to the average income. For the ordinary post-
wagon one paid less than twopence per English mile, "be-
sides two grosses at each stage to the postilion." •• A
traveler late in the eighteenth century observes: "Trav-
elling is cheaper in Germany than in France; for though
you pay half a rix dollar, or about one shilling and nine
pence, per horse, for every stage, the stages are as long
again as those in France. In Franconia, Suabia, and most
places near the Rhine, it is a florin, or about 2S. and 4d. per
horse; the postillion will expect thirty cruitzers." *

Far better were conditions of travel in Holland. So
diminutive was the country that no journey could be long,
nor could the cost of mere transportation amount to any
great sum even with charges far beyond those actually
demanded. Already in Misson's time "the rates of places
in the stage-coaches and boats were fixed," so that there
was "no occasion for contending about the price." The

182

THE COST OF TRAVEL

rates varied "according to the difference of places and dis-
tances." ^ Notwithstanding some travel that seems to us
to cost very little, Cogan in 1794 declares that travel in
Holland is "as expensive as in England, or even more so";^
and this we may well believe.^ As an interesting detail he
notes: "From Utrecht to Nimeguen is the distance of
fourteen hours. There are no turnpikes upon this road;
but each traveller is obliged to pay passagie geld (passage
money) from three-pence, six-pence, to twelve-pence, ac-
cording to the distance of the stage; so that the tax is
confined to persons." *

If one preferred to travel in Holland by water,^ the rates
were very reasonable. And this was equally true in the
Austrian Netherlands. The prices instanced by Essex in
1773 were typical. The barge from Dunkerque to Nieuport,
Bruges, had two classes, first class costing fifteen pence.^
More sumptuous was the barge that carried the traveler
from Bruges to Ghent, a distance of thirty miles, for two
shillings and sixpence, including dinner. This boat was
fifty-two feet long, and had cabins, windows with sliding
sashes, and an awning "over the states room." '

V

More difficult than in dealing with the expense of trans-
portation is it to generalize on the expense of hotels or
lodgings or food. But we may note how the charges ap-
peared to tourists of various types.

All in all, one could live very well at small expense on the
Continent, if one exercised reasonable prudence. "It is a
generally conceived notion in England that it is necessary
to have a considerable fortune to make the tour of France :
so it is, I confess, if a man is determined to be a dupe
to Frenchmen, and enter into all the follies, vices, and
fopperies, of that vain superficial people; but I can with
veracity declare, that during eighteen months I was
abroad, it did not cost me 150/. sterling." ^

Lady Mary Wortley Montagu drew upon a wide ex-

183

THE COST OF TRAVEL

perience, and in one of her letters she declares: "Nothing:
is cheaper than living in an inn in a country town in
France; they being obliged to ask no more than 25 sous
for dinner, and 30 for supper and lodging, of those that eat
at the public table." ^ Mrs. Steme said that she and her
daughter "could save as much money in a year in France
as would keep them in clothes for seven in England." -

Of Geneva Lady Mary does, indeed, say that, "Every
thing is as dear as at London"; ' but a little later she gives
facts that show what one might do on a moderate income :
"The Prince of Hesse, who is now married to the Princess of
England, lived'some years at Geneva on 500/. per annum.
Lord Hervey sent his son at sixteen thither, and to travel
afterwards, on no larger pension than 200/.; and though
without a govemour, he had reason enough, not only to
live within the compass of it, but carried home little presents
to his father and mother, which he showed me at Turin." *

In the second half of the century Lady Knight spent
much time on the Continent and lived as became her rank,
though her resources were by no means unlimited. In one
of her engaging letters, written from Toulouse in 1776, she
describes one of her dinners: "I gave a dinner . . . two
days since to an Irish lady and a French gentleman ; we had
a soup and a dish of the stewed beef, a very fine large eel,
mutton chops, a brace of the red partridge, an omelet with
peaches in it, grapes, peaches, pears and savoy biscuits;
a bottle of Bordeaux — sixteen pence — a bottle of our
own wine, value three half -penny s. The whole expense
amounted to ten shillings, wine included and a very fine
cauliflower." ^

It would be easy to show in detail that in other parts of
France and in other countries one could purchase a great
deal for very little; but some prices are unexpectedly high.
Smollett says: "We have as good tea at Boulogne for nine
livres a pound, as that which sells at fourteen shillings at
London." * In our time neither price would appear cheap.

About 1785 the common charge in France for dinner was
forty sous (twenty pence) and forty-five for supper and

184

THE COST OF TRAVEL

lodging. One might also expect clean linen and silver
forks. ^ In Smollett's day the usual price was thirty sous
"for dinner and forty for supper, including lodging." 2 In
1773, James Essex was at Dunkerque and at the inn shared
a supper provided for four people at fifteen pence a head.'
"It consisted of two fowls boild, a Duck roasted, a very
fine codling, a dish of artichoks and a fine sallad, these were
replaced by a dish of Tarts, a plate of Apricots, 2 plates of
maccaroons with other confectionarys." *

Another tourist in 1773 records his expenses at Paris:
"We drove to the H6tel de I'lmp^ratrice in the Rue
Jacob, where we have an elegant dining room, with two
bed chambers on the first floor, and a bed chamber in the
entre-sol, with an apartment for the servant, for three
guineas a week. I confess the lodgings are dear, but the
situation is good, and the furniture magnificent." For
coach hire he paid half a guinea a day and a shilling to
the coachman. "We have likewise," says he, "a valet
de place, who goes behind the coach, runs in errands, and
cheats us when he can. We generally dine at a Table
d'H6te where we find genteel people and good dinners,
the price is different at different houses; but for forty
sous a head, which is twenty-pence English, we dine most
sumptuously on two courses of seven and five, with a
dessert and a pint of Burgundy; when two are seated,
the table is full. We always sup at home. We buy our
wine of the merchant, and our supper is sent from the
neighbouring traiteurs." ^

Smollett, while on the Continent, found that expenses
depended largely upon the tourist himself. If he was
bent on economy, he could easily curtail his daily outlay
and yet live comfortably. "A single person, who travels
in this country, may live at a reasonable rate in these
towns, by eating at the public ordinaries; but I would
advise all families that come hither to make any stay, to
take furnished lodgings as soon as they can: for the ex-
pence of living at an hotel is enormous. I was obliged
at Marseilles to pay four livres a head for every meal,

185

THE COST OF TRAVEL

and half that price for my sen'-ant, and was charged six
livres a day besides for the apartment; so that our daily
expence, including breakfast and a valet de place,
amounted to two loui' dores." '

VI

But although normal prices on the Continent were
often extremely low, the hiuried tourist seldom reaj^ed
the fidl advantage of them, and this for many reasons.
Tourists were ad\'iscd, as a matter of principle, not to
be too careful of their expenditures. "To travel agi-ee-
ably," says ^lisson, "one must spend. 'Tis the way to
be respected of every body, to gain admittance every-
where, and to make great advantages of travelling in
all respects. Since 'tis but once in j'our lives that you
undertake such a thing, 'tis not worth while to be care-
ful in sa\'ing a thousand crowns, more or less. Nothing
is more melancholy than to see one's self forced, upon the
account of thriftiness, to do things which expose one to
the contempt of the rest of the travellers." ^

This advice might have been spared. The attitude
of the average well-to-do English tourist towards ex-
pense was very lofty and inditlorcnt. Accustomed to
a large establishment at home and to a revenue that to
foreigners appeared princely, he scorned small economies
and dealt out considerable sums NN^thout realizing that he
was doing anything unusual. Moreover, on his travels
he commonly gave liimself freer rein than at home and
without complaint paid outrageous bills that he might
normally have scrutinized more closely. Provided with
money far beyond his needs, the young English aristo-
crat took delight in la\ash spending and lived at The
Hague, at Paris, at Rome, at Vienna, in magnificent
style. He had his coach, his nmning footmen, his valet,
and other servants in livery, he had his suits of velvet
and lace and silk, and he gave costly dinners to repay
some of the hospitality he had enjoyed.

i86

THE COST OF TRAVEL

There were, of course, English tourists who kept the
purse-strings tightly drawn, either because of a saving
disposition or because otherwise they could not travel
at all. Men like Smollett, who could ill afford any un-
usual outlay, were goaded to fury at meeting the normal
charges exacted from travelers of rank. But as a rule,
taking pride in the national reputation for wealth, the
tourist scorned to show that even charges ridiculously
high appeared to him exorbitant.

There had been a vast increase in English wealth in
the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,* and extrava-
gance was an inherited trait. Fynes Moryson comments
upon the prodigality of the English of his time who would
not take the trouble to examine their reckonings.' Even
Walpole speaks of "the incredible profusion of our young
men of fashion. I know a younger brother," says he,
"who literally gives a flower- woman half a guinea every
morning for the nosegay in his button-hole." ^

In "The Capuchin," Foote cleverly ridicules the Eng-
lish fondness for spending money in order to make strangers
stare. Sir Harry Hamper, who is now making a tour
with a "travelling tuterer," had formerly kept a tea-
shop in Cornhill.

Sir Harry Hamper. Come, come! Come along. Doctor!
Peter, give the postillions thirty souses apiece.

Peter. ' Tis put down, they are to have but five, in the book.

Sir H. No matter ; it will let them know we are some-
body, Peter.

Peter. What significations that? ten to one, we shall
never see them again.

Sir H. Do as you are bid ! (Peter pays the Postillions.)

Peter. There ! Pox take ' em, see how they grin I ay, ay,
I dare be sworn you han't seen such a sum this many a day.

1st Post. Serviteur! bonne voyage, Monsieur my lor!

Sir H. There, there, Peter! my lord! I have purchased
a title for ten pence; that is dog cheap, or the devil 's in 't.

Peter. Nay, in that respect, the folks here make but little
difference between their dogs and your worship, I think; for
every mangy cur I have met with, is either prince, or my
lord, or marquis.^

187

THE COST OF TRAVEL

As for the reputation of the English abroad, the plain-
spoken Lady Mary Wortley Montagu does not mince
matters. "I know," says she, "how far people are im-
posed on that bear the name of English and heretics
into the bargain; the folly of British boys, and stupidity
or knavery of governors, have gained us the glorious title
of Golden Asses all over Italy." * Very illuminating, also,
are the remarks of Baretti on the extravagance of the
English during the tour abroad. "I believe it is not
necessary to say that a disposition to spend money freely
is one of the chief requisites towards the pleasures of
such an undertaking. However, there are few English
travellers who need this advice; and perhaps it would
not be improper to warn some of the most profuse, of the
general character this quality has acquired them in Italy,
where they are often called dupes and fools; and many
of my countrymen have wished for a law to prevent
their coming into Italy, unless they come with a certi-
ficate, importing that they know the true use of money." ^

This lordly indifference to expense, together with the
reputation for boundless wealth, brought the inevitable
penalty, for prices advanced wherever the English went.^
If Englishmen bought pictures they were at the mercy
of gHb-tongued professional guides who played into
the hands of the dealers. Not seldom they were even
ready to pay more than was asked. They offered Can-
aletto for his mediocre pictures of Venice three times as
much as his ordinary price.*

Where they had no other amusement at hand they
often literally threw their money away . ' ' How frequently , ' '
says a close observer, "did I with concern see our young
nobility and gentry, who, even travelling for their edu-
cation, spend their money and time, little to their own
improvement, or the credit of their country, frequently
collecting mobs in the street, by throwing money from
the windows; and in their daily actions confirming French-
men in their unalterable opinions, that the English are
all immensely rich, and consequently can afford to pay

i88

THE COST OF TRAVEL

double what a Frenchman wiU pay for the same article!
People in trade find the EngUsh custom so vastly bene-
ficial, that they have their lookers-out on purpose to
bring them to their shops and taverns, who have a share
in the impositions arising." ^ "The EngUsh," says Lady
Knight, "pay double for everything in every country.'

Even tourists of modest means were commonly charged
on the same scale as their extravagant countrymen.
An American writing shortly after the French Revo-
lution says: "The English are considered by the Romans
as the introducers of high prices into this country. To
them it is said to be owing, that the expenses of travel-
ling have increased to an astonishing degree, smce the
termination of the late continental wars; and that, not
so much by the simple occupation, use, and consumption
of the conveniences and luxuries of the country, as by
the manner in which they squander their money rather

than spend it." ' ■, u

Particularly throughout Italy and France greedy coach-
men and porters and hotel servants, as well as shop-
keepers and landlords, regarded the incautious stranger
as legitimate spoU, and strove to catch their sMre of
the golden shower." Every unscrupulous dealer had
two prices - one that he would get if he could, the other
that he would take if he must. The native, accustomed to
bargaining and familiar with prices, had small difficulty
in making his own terms. The average tourist, on the
other hand, was ill prepared to succeed in such a contest
Extortion faced travelers as soon as they landed at
Calais. There they found the Silver Lion, the HOte
d'Angleterre, or Table Royal, "extravagant houses all!
and the high prices, though not the comforts, of these
inns met them in the most unexpected places.

We are obviously unwarranted in infemng from a
few instances that every Continental innkeeper^ took
advantage of his guests, but the concurrent testimony
of tourists in France and Italy was that to trust to the
fairness of an unknown landlord was hazardous m the

189

THE COST OF TRAVEL

extreme. At Montpellier the manager of a certain house
"had the conscience to charge an EngHsh sea officer
that died there 300 livres (twelve gtiineas and a half)
for only eight days' lodging." ^

Smollett had his own unpleasant experience at Mont-
pellier: "Put up at the Cheval Blanc, counted the best
auherge in the place, tho' in fact it is a most wretched
hovel, the habitation of darkness, dirt, and imposition.
Here I was obliged to pay four livres a meal for every
person in my family, and two livres at night for every
bed, though all in the same room. . . . This imposi-
tion is o^vdng to the concourse of English who come hither,
and, like simple birds of passage, allow themselves to
be plucked by the people of the country, who know their
weak side, and make their attacks accordingly. They
affect to believe that all the travellers of our country
are grand seigneurs, immensely rich and incredibly gen-
erous; and we are silly enough to encourage this opinion,
by submitting quietly to the most ridiculous extortion,
as well as by committing acts of the most absurd extrav-
agance. This folly of the English, together with a con-
course of people from different quarters, who come hither
for the re-establishment of their health, has rendered
Montpellier one of the dearest places in the south of
France." 2

Elsewhere he notes: "The same imposition prevails
all over the south of France, though it is the cheapest
and most plentiful part of the kingdom. Without all
doubt, it must be owing to the folly and extravagance of
English travellers, who have allowed themselves to be
fleeced without wincing, until this extortion is become
authorized by custom." '

Neglect to ascertain in advance the cost of a room or a
dinner left the proprietor free to exact as much as he
thought he could probably get. "To an Englishman it
seems very strange to go into an inn, and make a bar-
gain for his bed, his supper, his horses and servants,
before he eats or sleeps; yet this is common in France,

190

THE COST OF TRAVEL

and for a stranger even necessary; for though you will
meet with no kind of civil reception at the inns upon the
road in France, as with us, at your entrance, you will
meet with an exorbitant bill (without this precaution)
at your departure." *

Young evidently neglected this precaution at Cher-
bourg. "I was here fleeced more infamously than at any
other town in France; the two best inns were full; I was
obliged to go to the barque, a vile hole, little better than
a hog-sty; where, for a miserable dirty wretched cham-
ber, two suppers composed chiefly of a plate of apples
and some butter and cheese, with some trifle besides too
bad to eat, and one miserable dinner, they brought me
in a bill of 31 liv. (il. 7s. id.); they not only charged
the room 3 liv. a night, but even the very stable for my
horse, after enormous items for oats, hay, and straw. "^
He cautions the tourist: "Let no one go to Cherbourg
without making a bargain for everything he has, even to
the straw and stable; pepper, salt, and table-cloth."

Later he cites another example of the greed of the
spoiler: "Sleep at Nemours, where we met with an inn-
keeper, who exceeded, in knavery, all we had met with
in France or Italy; for supper, we had a soup maigre,
a partridge and a chicken roasted, a plate of celery, a
small cauliflower, two batches of poor vin du Pays, and
a dessert of two biscuits and four apples : here is the bill : —
Potage, I liv. 10/. — Perdrix, 2 liv. 10/. — Poulet, 2 liv. —
Celeri, i liv. 4/. — Choufleur, 2 liv. — Pain et dessert,
2 liv. — Feu & apartement, 6 liv. — Total, 19 liv. 8/.
Against so impudent an extortion, we remonstrated se-
verely, but in vain. We then insisted on his signing the
bill, which, with many evasions, he did, a Vetoile; Foul-
liarer ^

The instances just cited are the more striking to the
modern tourist, since extortion, though not unknown,
is by no means the rule in modem France. To this day,
however, in a good part of Italy, particularly south of
Florence, the eighteenth-century habit of taking ad-

191

THE COST OF TRAVEL

vantage of the unwary guest is only too common. Ger-
many has enjoyed a far better reputation in this par-
ticular, though one has always found preliminary in-
quiry concerning hotel charges useful in Vienna, and
also in the more frequented parts of Holland.

Strangely like the eighteenth-century complaints are
those of Leigh Hunt, whose three years in Italy, from
1823 to 1826, gave him abundant opportunity for obser-
vation: "Persons employed to do the least or the great-
est jobs will alike endeavour to cheat you through thibk
and thin. Such, at least, was the case when I was in
Italy. It was a perpetual warfare, in which you were
obliged to fight in self-defence. If you paid anybody
what he asked you, it never entered his imagination that
you did it from anything but folly. You were pronounced
a minchioHc (a ninny), one of their greatest terms of re-
proach. On the other hand, if you battled well through
the bargain, a perversion of the natural feeling of self-
defence led to a feeling of respect for you. Dispute might
increase; the man might grin, stare, threaten; might
pour out torrents of argument and of 'injured innocence,'
as they always do; but be firm, and he went away equally
angry and admiring. Did anj'body condescend to take
them in, the admiration as well as the anger was still
in proportion, like that of the gallant knights of old when
they were beaten in single combat." '

As for the eighteenth-century tourist in Italy, if he
condescended to bargain a little he could live very
cheaply, though seldom so cheaply as a native even with-
out bargaining. Very significant, as indicating the double
standard of prices in Italy, is the experience of James
Edward Smith. Wliile on his way to Genoa, he fell in
with a Milanese count and put up with him at an inn.
"When we came to pay our bill in the morning, I was
surprised to find no demand made, but the whole left
to the discretion of my companion, who paid in all, for
himself and for me, much less perhaps than I should
have paid alone; as was the case all the way to Genoa.

192

THE COST OF TRAVEL

Such is the advantaj.^c of travelling under the protection
of an inhabitant of the country." '

A typical Italian city of moderate size is Pavia. Here
one could live at "an excellent inn" for about "four
shillings by the day" for "dinner and lodging, which is
the common rate of the country." ' At Venice the charges
were naturally much higher. The guest who went to
the "Scudo di Francia, a celebrated hotel," could have
" only two miserable little rooms for twenty sequins a
month, nor . . . obtain them for a shorter period,"
and was asked twelve livres a day for dinner. But, says
the traveler, our conductor "readily procured at the
Nuova Speranza a very elegant and convenient set of
apartments for fifteen sequins, and dinner at six livres
each, with an excellent valet de place, who served us
during our stay for six livres a day, which was cheap
for this season. A Venetian livre is somewhat less than
a Roman paul." ^

Cheap as Itahan hotels were in most towns when one
paid only the normal price or what the landlord was
willing to accept after bargaining, they were often ex-
pensive enough to the traveler who trusted to the fair-
ness and honesty of his host. Sometimes the inns that
offered least demanded most. The only safe plan, there-
fore, as in France, was to come to an agreement in ad-
vance with the landlord, and even then one might be
overreached by leaving some loophole unguarded. ■» Smol-
lett says of an inn on the road between Rome and Flor-
ence, "To give you an idea of the extortion of those vil-
lainous publicans, I must tell you that for a dinner and
supper, which even hunger could not tempt us to eat,
and a night's lodging in three truckle beds, I paid eighty
pauls, amounting to forty shillings sterling."^

The habit of overreaching was nothing new. The
sixteenth century Fynes Moryson tells us, "Only the
Innkeepers are permitted by all Princes (some more, some
lesse) to cxtorte without measure upon all passengers
because they pay unsupportable rents to them." ^

193

THE COST OF TRAVEL

Of impositions in Italy ncarl}'^ every eighteenth-century
traveler speaks in bitter terms. Already in the seventeenth
century Ray. in his "Travels through the State of Venice,"
complains: "Shop-keepers and tradesmen are false and
fraudulent enough, and inn-keepers, carriers, water-men
and porters, as in other places, horribly exacting, if you
make not an explicit bargain with them beforehand, inso-
much that in many places the state hath thought it neces-
sary by public bando and decree, to determine how much
inn-keepers shall receive of travellers for their dinner and
for their supper and lodging." '

Commenting upon the inns of Turin, Keysler in his time
complains : "The inns here also stand in great need of better
regulations, that travellers may be well used and not be so
intolerably imposed upon. There is not a place in all Italy
where the entertainment, at the same expence, is so bad as
at Turin." «

James Edward Smith stayed at the same inn at Lerici
that Smollett had denounced years before, and, like Smol-
lett, he had an unliappy experience: "Lerici," says he,
"contains an execrable inn. . . . We bargained before-
hand, as is necessary in Italy, for our supper and lodging;
but, having had coffee next morning, were surprised to find
it charged about as much as all the rest put together. On
complaining, we were told with the utmost effrontery, that
coffee was not in the original bargain." '

But it is worth noting that Smith remarks later: "We
found the inn-keepers in the north of Italy honest enough
to be trusted, at least so much as only to ask the price of
our accommodation on entering, and even if that precaution
were neglected, we were seldom imposed on." *

In the South the grasping instinct was strongest. Breval
went from Messina to Naples by felucca, landing here and
there along the coast. He found bad accommodations all
the way, and once narrowly escaped being shot by an irate
landlord whose bill he disputed.^ The shotgun was not
generally used in Italy as a proof of the correctness of the
hotel bill, but complaints of the dishonesty of innkeepers

194

THE COST OF TRAVEL

and in general of those who had anything to sell are fre-
quent in eighteenth-century books of travel.

Naturally high prices prevailed in those houses that
catered to foreign guests. But the ordinary charges for
food and lodging at an eighteenth-century Italian inn ap-
pear to a modern tourist very moderate indeed. We
must note, however, that De Drosses * thought the Italian
inns expensive ; and that De La Lande ^ remarks upon the
extreme cheapness of food in Tuscany, but adds, "Tout est
chcr dans les auberges."

Mariana Starke, basing her generalization upon a seven
years' residence in Italy, says: "Prices at inns are much
the same all over Italy, namely, for a large apartment,
twenty Tuscan pauls per day — for a smaller apartment,
fifteen pauls, and so on in proportion — for breakfast, one
livre per head — for dinner, six or eight pauls per head —
for a cold supper, one livre per head — for every servant,
three pauls per day. And with respect to huona-mano to
Attendants at inns, the waiter usually expects about one
paul per day, though persons who stay but a very short time
usually give more. The Cook expects a trifling present, and
the chambermaid one still more trifling. The wages of a
valet-de-place is four pauls per day throughout Tuscany,
he finding himself in board, lodging and clothes." '

After this general statement we need spare but few lines
for further detail. "At Rome," says Misson, representing
the earlier part of the century, "you pay but seven julios ^
in the best inns, and if you make a bargain for a consider-
able time they will content themselves with six." ^

In general, throughout the eighteenth century, living at
Rome was inexpensive. Lady Knight writes in 1778: "I
have now taken a lodging for a year, at six and thirty pounds
a year. . . . We are in a palace surrounded by palaces.
It is neatly furnished, and I have eight rooms entirely clear
from the other families, who only ascend the same staircase.
The English pay about as much for two months of apart-
ments, often not quite so good." ^ Three years later she
remarks: "We are both fond of Rome, finding it not only

195

THE COST OF TRAVEL

cheap, but the most entertaining place in the world, am!
were we to stay double the time we have done, we should
still have thinj^s to see that are new."' And she adds, "It
is true, Rome is at present very de;ir, but when I tell you
that beef is only three-halfpence a pound, a fine turkey iiot
quite fifteen-pence, that I can have a coach for six hours (or
horses to our owm, which I please) for three and six-ponoo.
you will think how differently I must be in England." ^
In 17S2 she says that. "Though Rome is thirty per cent
dearer than it was, yet it is, I believe, the cheapest city in
Europe. ' ' ^ And in 1 7 9 1 , living not far from the Capitol, she
tells a friend: "We have eight rooms, besides a very good
kitchen and cellar. . . . We are three miles from St. Peter's.
We pay for these apartments about twelve pounds ten a
year; in London they would cost us at least two hundred
pounds per anmmi." ^

Mariana Starke likewise found Rome very inexpensive.
"The price of lodgings, while the Papd Government con-
tinued, was not exhorbitant — IMargariti usually demanded
forty paper scitdi per month for his best apartments, with-
out linen, unless it were during the Holy Week, when the
price was higher. Conquelini demanded sixty paper scudi
per month without linen ; but this price was reckoned ex-
horbitant." ^ "The best traitcurs during the Papal Gov-
ernment charged only eight pauls a head for dinner, des-
ert, bread, and wine; and this dinner usually furnished the
servants of the family with as much as they could cat.
The price of breakfast at a coffee-hotise was one paul per
head — the price of dinner per head at a iraitcur's, three
pauls, bread and wine inclusive." ^

LiN^ng at Naples also was extremely cheap,^ though the
tourist did ^^^sely to be on his guard. ^ At the end of the
century, "The price commonly demanded [at Naples] for
the best apartments at hotels, and other lodging-houses
frequented by the English, is from eighty to one hundred
and twenty ducats per month, during winter and spring;
and apartments by the night cannot easily be procured
under three or four ducats. ... A good dinner at an hotel

196

THE COST OF TRAVEL

is usually charged at eight or ten carlini per head; Ser-
vants' living at three or four carlini per day each — break-
fast is charged so high that most People find their own." ^

In any case, living in Italy was far less expensive than
in England,^ and so the scale of relative prices has on the
whole continued to our own time. How cheaply one could
live at Florence in 1845 we see from the experience of
Bayard Taylor: "We have taken three large and tolerably
well furnished rooms in the house of Signor Lazzeri, a
wealthy goldsmith, in the Via Vacchereccia, for which we
pay ten scudi per month — a scudo being a trifle more than
an American dollar. This includes lights, and the attend-
ance of servants, to whom, however, we are expected to
give an occasional gratuity. We live at the Cafe and
Trattorie readily for about twenty-five cents a day, so that
our expenses will not exceed twelve dollars a month, each.
For our dinners at the Trattoria del Cacciatore we pay
about fourteen cents, and are furnished with soup, three
or four dishes of meat and vegetables, fruit and a bottle of
wine!" ^

In traveling through Tuscany in the forties of the nine-
teenth century, Bayard Taylor put up at inns frequented
by the common people. "They treated us here, as else-
where," says he, "with great kindness and sympathy, and
we were freed from the outrageous impositions practised
at the greater hotels."^ At Casina, however, "We de-
cided to leave it to the host's conscience not to over-
charge us. Imagine our astonishment, however, when at
starting a bill was presented to us, in which the smallest
articles were set down at three or four times their value." ^

We may now pass into Germany. The German character
has its failings, but "steadiness with honesty" has re-
mained for centuries its distinguishing mark. This ap-
peared in the dealings with tourists, who rarely complain of
the charges at German inns and in German shops.^ Until
near the end of the nineteenth century cheapness continued
to be a notable feature of the country. Henry Crabb Rob- .

197

THE COST OF TRAVEL

inson made a tour of three hundred miles in Germany at a
cost of two and a half guineas. "And when it is considered
that we included in our tour one of the most fashionable and
famous resident towns, and one of the celebrated districts
of Germany, it must be allowed that travelling is for me a
cheap pleasure." ^

Bayard Taylor tells a similar story, but we must note
that Taylor had a genius for living on almost nothing.
"The cheapest coimtry for travelling, as far as my experi-
ence extended, is Southern Germany, where one can travel
comfortably on twenty-five cents a day. Italy and the
south of France come next in order, and are but little more
expensive; then follow Switzerland and Northern Germany,
and lastly. Great Britain. The cheapest city, and one of
the pleasantest in the world, is Florence, where we break-
fasted on five cents, dined sumptuously on twelve, and
went to a good opera for ten. A man would have no diffi-
culty in spending a year there for about $250." ^

In the eighteenth century Baron Riesbeck found even
Vienna inexpensive for those who could make a long stay,
though the hotels have long been dear for the passing
stranger. "The expence of living," says he, "is likewise
less than it is anywhere else; and Vienna is probably the
only town in which the price of the necessaries of life is not
equal to the quantity of gold in circulation." '

A typical watering-place like Cleves on the lower Rhine
was counted rather expensive, and the following were the
prices in the last decade of the eighteenth century: "To
prevent any imposition, but those sanctioned de part le Rot,
the late King authorized a set of regulations respecting the
price of rooms, meals, wines, etc. According to these, you
may sleep comfortably for five guilders (about nine shil-
lings) per week; breakfast for six-pence; dine for sixteen;
sup for twelve; have a bottle of decent Rhenish wine, con-
taining three pints, for eighteen, and of Moselle for sixteen.'* *

At Hamburg, one of the wealthiest cities in Germany,
"the common price for dinner at an inn," says Mariana
Starke, "is two marks a head." ^

198

THE COST OF TRAVEL

In the Low Countries, as already noted, the mere cost of
living made a moderate demand upon the tourist's purse.
James Essex dined one day in 1773 on the barge plying be-
tween Bruges and Ghent. The dinner served for twelve
people cost fifteen pence each and was a very elaborate
meal, with a first course of soup, boiled beef, stewed peas,
French beans stewed, and herrings pickled on greens.
The second course included roast mutton, veal, fowls,
"soals," and stewed veal. Then followed apricots, plums,
pears, "biskits," "crumplins," filberts, butter and cheese.^

When compared with the fashionable inns of London the
highest priced inns of Holland were inexpensive. One
could live at the best inns of The Hague, which compared
favorably with any in Europe, for five or six shillings a day.
But in London at the King's Arms in Pall Mall or at
Pontac's in the City * ' it requires good economy to come off
for fifteen shillings or a guinea a day." ^ And this before
1750. A generation or more later, in commenting on the
charges at Dutch inns, the English tourist Pratt remarks:
"Leaving you, however, . . . undefended amongst the
Hollanders, you would not so soon be swallowed up as by
the English." ^

Private lodgings at The Hague were about as expensive
as in London, but not so well furnished or so comfortable in
winter. "The stranger at The Hague may generally board
in the house where he lodges, which is no small conveniency
to such as are not obliged to dress and go abroad every
day. He pays a shilling for his dinner, or midmal, as they
call it, and is sure of two or three good dishes." *

VII

After a certain point expense is so purely a personal
matter that generalization becomes difficult, for the outlay
varies according to the tastes and the fortune of the tour-
ist. Particularly is this true in estimating the allowance
for beggars. In the Low Countries and in most* of Ger-
many beggary was rare, but in Paris, in Lyons, in Tus-

199

THE COST OF TRAVEL

cany, in the Papal States, and in the Kingdom of Naples
wretched shadows of humanity, emaciated, deformed, cov-
ered with loathsome sores, might be encountered at every
church door, while able-bodied mendicants infested the
highways and the city squares, and descended in vociferous
swarms upon the tourist intent upon some ancient ruin.
English travelers in particular were regarded as the surest
resource of the "lame and the lazy." So marked was the
difference between the gaunt destitution of Ital}'- and the
sleek comfort of England that every eighteenth-century
English tourist noted as a matter of course the one social
condition that most impressed him.

After the traveler had escaped the ordinary beggars of
the street he had still to deal with the hotel servants, with
the postilions, and the luggage porters. With the ordinary
servants of the inn the well-instructed tourist had little
trouble. For a day's service he bestowed a few coppers or
the smallest silver coin upon the head waiter and gave "a
trifle to the gate porter." But the inexperienced tourist
dealt out rewards with lavish hand to the troops of
servants gathered at the inn door when the coach drew
up for departure. Then came the turn of the luggage
carriers, who were frequently not connected at all with
the inn.

Particularly in France and Italy were these harpies a
plague. Both on the arrival and the departure of the coach
these volunteer porters followed and pestered the traveler,
quarreling over the privilege of carrying his luggage and
making their charges as high as they dared. Trained from
infancy in the arts of extortion these greedy cormorants
were never satisfied, and affected dissatisfaction with the
most liberal gratuity if they saw any prospect of exacting
more.

If the tourist was traveling in his own coach, he might
expect at every stop to have a blacksmith come prying
about the carriage and the horses; and unless the fellow
was thoroughly incompetent he might be trusted to find a
nut or a bolt missing or a shoe that required resetting.

200

THE COST OF TRAVEL

His own work was usually so badly done as to insure a job
to somebody in another town.^

Little better than licensed beggary were the exactions of
pampered menials in high station. In Milan, says Keys-
ler, writing of the state of things about 1730, "The present
governor is a strict economist, and has but few guests.
He is also difficult of access to foreigners, who are here sub-
ject to another inconvenience, that, after only paying their
respects to him, without eating or drinking, a multitude of
domestics, as the harbinger, gentleman, trumpeter, porter,
etc., even to the countess's woman, placing themselves in
the way, crowd about them for money, and a stranger
cannot get rid of these genteel beggars under several louis
d'ors." 2

At Rome, too, one drawback to accepting any social
courtesies was the tax afterwards levied upon the guests.
"It is not difficult," says Keysler, "to get acquainted with
some of the cardinals, and they are not backward in receiv-
ing visits ; but nothing, however, is saved by it : For the car-
dinal's servants are sure to make the guests pay dearly for
his entertainment ; and so mean spirited are these fellows,
that if the very next day after a visit a person enters their
master's house again, they surround him soliciting a h{u)ona
mano, or gratuity. It is the same if one goes to a concert, or
a party ^t play, or on receiving the most trivial civility at
any house." ^

De La Lande found a similar state of things: "Stran-
gers complain much in England of the practice of the
domestics, who, after dinner, arrange themselves at
the door to receive each a gift from all those who have
eaten with their master. In Italy there is something of
the sort, though less burdensome. As soon as a stranger
has been presented in a house, even without having eaten
there, one of the servants comes the next morning in
the name of all the others to pay his compliments, and
the custom is to give him at least a tester (thirty-two
sous) or more, according to the rank of the person who
has been presented. As many visits as you pay, so many

201

THE COST OF TRAVEL

testers must you give, without counting what you give
for seeing the apartments and pictures of the house.* . . .
On New Year's Day, in the month of August, and when
one is ready to depart, one receives similar compHments,
and is obHged to bestow like gifts: but, for all that, it
costs much less than in England." ^

The number of servants that the tourist regularly kept
in his employ was naturally regarded as a good index of
his wealth and social importance. Even though he might
not have taken a servant abroad with him, his first care
on arriving at Paris or Turin or Rome, if he wished to
maintain his social position, was to secure one or more
attendants — at least a valet, and a footman. A man
of high quality was expected to maintain his rank by
keeping a troop of lackeys. The Earl of Carlisle, writing
from Naples in 1768, complains to Selwyn: "These
cursed feasts will ruin me in servants. I am forced to
have seven here, and have another on the road. Though
I hope soon to dismiss some of mine, yet the house can-
not well be too large, as we shall not have less than thir-
teen or fourteen servants." '

Another necessity for tourists of high social standing
— at Paris, at Turin, at Rome, at Naples, at Vienna —
was a carriage. The expense naturally varied with the
city. In Paris, "where all the genteel English . . . keep
a carriage," it was rarely more than twelve guineas a
month. "They will make a demand tjpon you for a
shilling a day for the coachman; but this is a mere im-
position upon a stranger, and contrived between the
master of the coach and your servant, to whom he gives
a shilling a day." *

One who actively participated in the social life of the
upper classes on the Continent found himself almost
inevitably drawn into expensive pastimes. Gambling,
great and small, betting of every sort, was the common
form of entertainment in the upper ranks of society through-
out Europe in the generation preceding the French Revo-
lution. In London it was the curse of the nobility. "At

202

THE COST OF TRAVEL

Almack's," notes Walpole in 1770, "the young men of
the age lose five, ten, fifteen thousand pounds of an even-
ing." ^ When these young men went abroad they found
card tables at every evening assembly and they con-
tinued their gaming as a matter of course. Charles James
Fox dissipated a tolerable fortune at Naples and Spa
when he toured the Continent as a gay young macaroni.
The ordinary gambling that served to while away an
idle social hour in France or Italy laid no heavy burden
upon young men of prudence, but those who regularly
participated in the universal sport added month by month
no small item to their expense account. Those who de-
clined to share in games of chance found themselves
as a rule out of harmony with their company.

The average tourist, as we have elsewhere remarked,
was not especially keen to enjoy the society of the Con-
tinent, but his pride would not permit him to be singu-
lar in his dress and in his lack of conformity to social
conventions. Very curious are the details in the guide-
books of the time. Note the following advice, addressed
to the English in Paris in the year 1770: "For dress-
ing hair, never give more than six livres per month. La-
dies give twelve to be drest in the highest mode ; and both
gentlemen and ladies are drest every day."

Within comparatively narrow limits one could estimate
before leaving home the cost of one's wardrobe: "One
great article of expense at Paris is cloaths. You will
meet no where with greater cheats than the French tay-
lors, it is therefore my advice to you to buy everything
yourself; and, even at the merchant's, be very cautious
not to give so much as they ask you. For making a plain
smt of cloaths, you give eighteen shillings, and for the
richest laced cloaths thirty shillings. The suits most
generally used are velvet, silk, and plain cloth. A black
velvet suit, with very rich gold waistcoat, will cost you
sixteen guineas, making and all. A silk suit, nine guineas.
A cloth suit, lined with silk, six guineas and a half. Each
of these suits have two pair of breeches. If you use

203

THE COST OF TRAVEL

gold trimmings, fur lining, or lace, as I advise you to
buy the articles from the merchant, you will see, and be
a judge of, the additional expence. But if the cloaths
here mentioned, which are such as are usually bought
at Paris, cost you a greater price than is here set down,
you will be imposed upon." ^

What one purchased abroad naturally varied with
the taste and the means of the tourist. To return from
Italy or France with nothing characteristically Italian
or French was not to be thought of. The rich young
Englishman usually bought a picture or two, some mo-
saics, a clever statue, and perhaps what he took to be
antiquities; for the eighteenth century was notable for
collections of every sort, and the collector had been taught
in his youth to admire the works of art brought from
Italy by earlier tourists. So assiduous were the Eng-
lish in gathering ciniosities that the Romans used to say,
"Were our Amphitheatre portable, the English would
carry it off." Unfortunately, in nothing does expert
knowledge count for more than in the purchase of pic-
tures, statues, coins, vases. In such transactions the
unwary Englishman was the easy prey of the glib de-
ceiver. He filled great boxes with sham antiques, with
Raphaels and Domenichinos and Andrea del Sartos
manufactured by some dauber in the galleries and with
touching confidence shipped them to his ancestral halls
in England.

Misson enumerates the specialties of various Italian
cities that one might advantageously buy: At Rome,
prints, paintings, maps, plans of towns, perfumes, gloves,
etc.; at Naples,; "Stockings, Waistcoats, Breeches, Caps,
and other Works of Silk; perfum'd Soap, Snuff-boxes
of Shell inlaid with Silver, good Spanish Snuff"; at Venice,
"Points. All sorts of Works in Glass and Crystal: Snuff-
boxes; Silk Stuffs; Fine Scarlet." ^

French ingenuity and artistic skill supplied all Europe
with "books, watches, engravings, tea-cups, snuff-boxes,
buckles, dressing gowns, etc." ^ Caution, however, was

204

A COLLECTION OF ANCIENT ARTISTIC TREASURES

'4

i ///'<*/-/ //Vv A/ /irrf-mJifueTiTri; rv/tx-^^r Jajiiter Tfixiaiaa, «»r A^exru*

i£/Ae'J€atui o/ tJt4i^ Apollo <?/\pi*lplu>if .

4 £/^- Cu//Jft/vc U/h ^y 'o/^f^J JiJii^t Hercule. .

J ^^>4^ Cadoceitf <^Mereuriuit iuteznalK .

THE COST OF TRAVEL

necessary in buying anything. Shopkeepers, particularly
in Paris and in Naples, added to their incomes and to
the tourist's discomfort by extortionate charges. As
for Paris, "There is nothing," we are told, "which a
stranger ought to be more careful of . . . particularly
an Englishman, than laying out his money; for he will
never go to buy anything, even of the most trifling nature,
in which they will not attempt to cheat him." ^ His
rule should therefore be never to give more than a third
of the price first demanded.

Smollett says of the dealers in Paris that the most
reputable of them "think it no disgrace to practice the
most shameful imposition. "^ Smollett is a chronic fault-
finder, but an English traveler of more equable temper,
touring in 1814 through France, visiting Dieppe, Paris,
Lyons, the Pyrenees, and returning through Toulouse,
assumes the facts to be well known and attempts an ex-
planation: "The rapacity with which they (the French)
attack the purses of English travellers is the commercial
spirit in the only way in which it can at present exert
itself. The higgling disposition of the French, which is
so teazing to strangers, arises from their way of living;
— buying their daily food almost by the mouthful : a
handftil of spinach, a cucumber, a little fruit; the value
small, but uncertain, and of course subject to perpetual
bargaining. If you are obliged to higgle about a sous,
you will naturally do the same in greater matters: and
thus it becomes habitual." '

But Birkbeck's party appears on the whole to have
suffered little from overcharges, for he goes on to say:
"Our party, consisting of Mr. G., Flower, myself, and
my son, a youth of fifteen, performed the journey for
£70 sterling each person, including all our expenses, ex-
cepting a few purchases which had no relation to travel-
ling. We had no servant, and were tolerably attentive to
economy." *

On this trip they were gone eighty-six days and spent
on an average sixteen or seventeen shillings a day. A

205

THE COST OF TRAVEL

writer more than a generation earlier maintained with-
out hesitation that a heavy outlay for travel in France
was largely due to one's folly. This we may well believe,
though we see that incidental items multiplied greatly
and almost inevitably the cost of one's tour.

206

CHAPTER X

THE CONTINENTAL TOUR! FRANCE AND SPAIN

We are now prepared to follow a typical tour and to
view more closely some of the countries that most at-
tracted the tourist. Where to go and what to see was not
easy to decide offhand for one's self. But fashion had
much to do with the choice of the places visited and
relieved the tourist of the necessity for over-anxious
thought about the matter. In our day, the average
tourist, in theory at least, shapes his tour on the Con-
tinent about as he pleases, with little reference to pre-
scribed custom, and unless he joins a personally con-
ducted party following routes that have been well beaten
for centuries, he is as likely as not to go into many out-
of-the-way comers. But a century or two ago, although
many travelers drifted somewhat aimlessly, the far larger
proportion charted their course with some care before
they left home and selected places that had an established
reputation.

On one matter eighteenth-century tourists were prac-
tically all agreed, and that was that a grand tour on
the Continent without a visit to Italy was no grand tour
at all. Any one, however, who went to Italy generally
spent time enough on the way thither and on the way
home to get a fair general acquaintance with France
and Germany and the Low Countries.

In the eighteenth century, as in our time, certain cities
stood out as preeminent, and these, or some of them,
must be visited by any one who pretended to make the
grand tour. Whatever else could be viewed along the
route was clear gain, but of places of minor interest there

207

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

were at best very large omissions. Accordingly, a few
cities — Paris, Turin, Venice, Florence, Rome, Naples,
Vienna, Dresden, Berlin, Amsterdam — to cite a few out
of many, really determined the tourist's route, for the
path he followed was commonly the one that led most
directly from one great center to another.

In part, this limitation of travel to conventional routes
was a necessity. One might, indeed, imagine that at
a time when nearly all land travel was by carriage p.
good many places that now appear somewhat inacces-
sible would have seemed easy to reach. We forget that
a hundred and fifty years ago one necessarily spent from
live to eight or even ten times as many hours in cover-
ing a given distance as is now the case when one is hurled
at dizzy speed to one's destination. The grand tour at
best consimied in mere joumej-ing a very long time,
much of which must be spent upon the road and in little
wayside inns of painfully modest pretensions. There
was, moreover, so much to be seen on the conventional
tour that time was lacking for making experiments. It
must be admitted, too, that for the most part tourists
manifested little desire to \nsit places off the beaten
track. Their interest in ^-ild scenery was very small,
and their attention was very fully absorbed by the cities
of European reputation. Of the country they saw more
than enough on the way from one town to another.

We must remember that the eighteenth century, to
a remarkable degree, delighted in social life. Zimmer-
man might write a large book on solitude, and Cowper
might sigh for a lodge in some vast wilderness, but there
is little e\'idence that voluntary recluses were much
more numerous than they are to-day.

To a considerable extent travel throughout Europe
followed the lines of the immemorial trade routes. These
ancient paths had been established by necessity, often
passing through valleys determined by high mountain-
barriers, and connecting cities whose prosperity was
foreordained by their situation — a seaport, a town

208

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

at the junction of two rivers. The choice of the tour-
ist's route was, obviously, in considerable measure de-
termined by the topography of the country, by the state
of the roads, by the relative convenience or safety of
travel by land and by water, and by the situation of the
places deemed best worth a visit. With these cities in
view he mapped out his route and on the way took in
such other places as he could without too much trouble.
In the space that we can allow it is clearly imprac-
ticable to attempt to rival an eighteenth-century guide-
book by describing, or even enumerating, one by one
the towns that tourists visited. But, on the other hand,
to give no account of the most typical points of interest
would result in dealing with mere generalities. We may,
therefore, select some characteristic cities and towns on
the most traveled routes and endeavor in a few words to
point out what were their special features of attraction.

II

Practically every Englishman who went abroad trav-
eled more or less in France. In fact, unless he entered
the Continent by way of Hamburg or through the Low
Countries, or wandered far out of the ordinary paths
by sailing for a Mediterranean port, he could not easily
escape going through France, even had he so desired.

But France was peculiarly alluring to most English-
men. Any one with a little time to spare could make a
considerable tour there without great trouble or expense.
One had only to slip across the Channel to find one's
self amidst a civilization strangely fascinating, and un-
like what was to be seen at home. Tourists from every
part of Europe trooped into France — Spaniards, Italians,
Germans, Russians, Swedes, Hollanders; for French
manners were the most polished, French cookery the
most exquisite, French conversation the most brilliant,
French literature the most entertaining. By going to
France one came in contact with international culture.

209

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

For yCvirs before the Revolution France was a doli>;ht-
fiil place for English tourists, especially for those \v!\o
belonged within tlie channed circle of society. Every-
thing English was in favor, and visiting Englishmen, like
Gibbon and Hume and Garrick. received the most marked
attentions. Frenchmen gave themselves to the sineerest
t\'pe of flattery — imitation, and stRn'e. acaM'ding to
their light, to transform themselves into Englishmen.
They "read Shakespeare; drank tea; da^ssed like jockeys,
imported race-horses; set up English clubs and had ii>?-
sctttblies h I'anghise destructive of the old French salon."'
Smollett in 176^^ observed with satisfaction that the French
were begimung to imitate the English in simpler ihvss and
in the use of cold baths. James Edward Smith noted in
17S6 that "the prevailing sentiments of most ranks were
much in favour of the English, as the wonderful adoption
of our tastes and fashions of late years ai\d the avidity
with which our publications were read. abundantly evince."^
Arthur Youiv.^ in his Tri.::'cls^ commetUs on the new fashion,
borrowed from England, of passing some time in the coun-
try. We must note, however, with Leslie Stephen, that this
imitation of English ways by Frenchmen trained to a very
different type of living was "ridiculous because superficial." *

But the fact that France saw so much that was at-
tractive in English customs and habits not unnaturally
made France more delightful to Englishmen, and when
they sought a change of air and scene they swarmed
across the Channel in great numbers. They went to
Paris ' as a matter of course, but they also distributed
themselves u-idely throughout the country. After the
Seven Years' War it became increasingly the fashion to
run over to the Continent for a brief round of travel,
with no intention of making the elaborate grand tour.
That was imderstood to be the aiTiiir of a young man.
and it was made once in a lifetime. But a short and rel-
atively inexpensive circular tour through the Low Coun-
tries or a comer of France involved no great preparation
and interfered little with one's ordinary affairs at home.

210

TOUJ{ OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

Not only the easy accessibility of France, but the
cheapness of living as compared with Enj^land, marie
it popular with people of morJerate incomes. Even Eng-
lishwomen who were accustomed to comfort at home
found the Continental tour agreeable, and spent a good
deal of time in France. The Dowager Countess of Carlisle,
for example, made a long sojourn at Aix, at Nlmes, at
Avignon, and at Beaucaire. In her letters she gives
interesting details of her life in Provence.'

Partly for learning the French language and French
manners, and partly for economy, many English people
resided for years in various French towns, remaining in
one place as long as they were satisfied and then moving
on to another. A good instance of the moderately well-
to-do type is afforded by Lady Knight. From 1778 to
1786 she was in Italy. In 178O she went by way of Mar-
seilles to Avignon and there remained several months. At
Nimes she resided nearly a year. Another change took
her to Vienne; and then, in 1789, she withdrew from
troubled France to Italy.

Before the middle of the century Lady Mary Wortley
Montagu, writing from Dijon, says, with pardonable exag-
geration: "There is not any town in France where there
are not English, Scotch, or Irish families established.
Here are in this town no loss than sixteen English families
of fashion." 2 She had difficulty in selecting an out-of-the-
way town in France where she might meet her scapegrace
son without being "likely to find any English," and where
he might if he pleased "be quite unknown; which is hardly
possible in any capital town either of France or Italy." '
She finally selected Valence.

Once a place had established itself in the favor of the
English, it continued to draw other Englishmen, for there
one might expect to find not merely one's countrymen but
also inns, and sometimes houses to rent, that were intended
to satisfy the demands of hurried, fault-finding tourists and
of well-to-do families making a protracted stay.

But the comforts they sought were by no means every-

211

TOUR OF FHANCK AXO SPAIN

whoro nttaAiiaMc. Sotiio of tho citio?? atu! towtis of Fraticc.
up to tho time of tho Rovohitiot\. woiv anioiii: tho most
luxurious and splondid \n V.uvopc, but luauv parts of tho
oountry woa^ sunk in nusory. Lady Mary Wortloy Mon-
tagu's piotun" of tho dostitution in 1718 is pitiful, and it
accurately doscribos tho co>nditions in many small commu-
nittos two generations later. She mentions tho "objects
of nusery" that one commonly mot and adds that "all the
country \nllai:es of Franco show nothing olso. While tjio
post-horses are changed, the whole town eomes out to beg,
with such miserable starved faces, and thin tattered olothcs,
they need no other eloquence to persuade one of the wri^tch-
cdness of their conditio!!."^ An English tourist in 177J,
contrasting France with Holland, might almost seem to bo
cop^nng Lady ^La^y: "The whole kingdom swanns \nth
beggars, an ONndonco of poverty, as well as defect in the
laws. This observation was continued at every inn I
came to. by crowds of wa^tches. I have often passed from
the inn-door to my chaise through a tile of twenty or thirty
of them." '

To Englishnien. indivd. not\\'ithstanding the la\-ish dis-
play of wealth in favored centers. Fratiee as a whole seemed
poor. Horace Walpolo characteristically writes to Conway
in 1 771: "The instamv of their poverty that strikes we
niost. who make political observations by the thonnometer
of baubles, is. that there is nothing new in their shops. I
know the faces of every snufnx'>x aiul ever>- tea-cup as well
as those of ^Ladanlo du Lac and Monsieur Poirier." *

Into this state of chronic poverty Franco, as we ha\e
elsewhere seen, had gradually sunk in the course of the
long n.ngt\ of Louis XIV. The recovery was gradu.al as the
eighteenth century progressed, and did not bring prosperity
to all parts of the country alike. Even the French cities,
though often picturesque and fascinating from the modern
point of Nncw. commonly presented in their older quarters a
network of dark, narrow, dirty alleys and sttvets oooupied
by a poverty-stricken population. ]\Lany of the surx^iving
ancient portions of Dinant, of Evreux, of Vitr«5, of Rouen

213

TOUK OF Fi<ANCK AM) Si'AJN

— though now more t;cnjj;ulou:;ly clcanr^d — ,',how what
was once a normal urhan tyi>o.

Those who know the flourishing' city of Clermont-Fer-
rand to-day, with the farihionablc waterinj^-j^Iaoe Rr^yat in
the suburbs, may be int(;re;;ted to note Arthur Youn^''s
impressions of the place in 1789: " Much of it forms one of
the worst built, dirtiest, and most stinkinp^ jJaces I have
met with. There are many streets that can, for blackness,
dirt, and ill-scents only be represented by narrow channels
cut in a nij^ht-dunj^hill." ' Similar conditions were not
rare in French provincial towns and may have tenrled to
check the exploratory arrlor of the not too eager U^urist.

Throughout France the contrasts were strikin/^ Young
speaks of "bridges that cost 70 or 80,000/. and immense
caur^;ways, to connect towns; but," he adds, "what trav-
eller, with his person surrounded by the beggarly filth of an
inn . . . will not condemn such inconsistender; as folly?" =!

The keen-sighted Dr. Moore cautions the reader who is
inclined to overrate the prosperity of France: "To retain a
favoura};le notion of the wealth of France, we mu.st re-
main in the capital, or vi.sit a few trading or manufacturing
towns; but must seldom enter the chateau of the Seigneur
or the hut of the pea.sant. In the one we shall find nothing
but tawdry furniture, and from the other we shall be
scared by penury."^

One writer in 1769 with some exaggeration cxprcs.scs the
opinion that there i:; not "in all France, one well fed, well
cloathed, warm, and substantial husbandman — which, of
all mankind, is U) the state the most u.scful memh>er." '• And
Wyndham, who chiefly aims U) gather up the current
opiniom of his time, presents a similar view: "Some of the
princes of the blood, and a few of the nobility, are more
magnificent in their palaces and equipages than any of the
English; but the other ranks of life are despicable, when
compared with the riches, elegance, and opulence of the
nobility and gentry of England, even those of an inferior
class." 6

213

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

III

Invismuch as English tourists in France commonly meant
in any case to see Paris, there will be advantage in point of
clearness if we consider first the trip to Paris, with a glance
at a few places on the way, and then take up the other
portions of the country. But at best, in our survey of
France, we can touch upon only a few representative
towns N\'ithout attempting to rival the details assembled l*y
Nugent or De La Force. As already remarked, to write a
guide-book to eighteenth-century France is no part of our
task.

The most popular way of going to Paris from London was
to cross the Channel from Dover to Calais and then to drive
down through Abbeville, Amiens, and Chaniilly. Many
tourists landed at Boulogne, whence they joined the stream
of travel from Calais to Paris. Still others from various
English ports landed at Ha\Te or Dieppe and proceeded
through Rouen to the capital. And many more entered
France from Brussels and other points in the Low Countries.

We may well begin \\4th C:d;iis. This now flourishing
commercial city was in the eighteenth century mainly of
interest to the tomist as the chief gateway to France. No
Ruskin had arisen to point out the dignity and rugged
beauty of the ancient church tower of Calais, and few
tourists spent more time in the town than the leisurely
conditions of eighteenth-century travel required. "The
town," says Nugent, "is small and consists only of eight
streets, that run from the market-place. But as this is
the thoroughfare of the English in time of peace to France
and Flanders, the place is pretty populous." *

Boulogne, farther down the French coast, was a very
didl towm, but its position as a seaport brought a good
number of English tourists as birds of passage. The mere
sights of the place were not sufficient to detain many \asi-
tors beyond a few hours, but the convenience of access to
England and the cheapness of living made the quiet old

214

JOUR OF IKANCK AND SIXAIN

seaport a more or less permanent refuj^e for a conr;iflerable
colony of En;,;Hshmen, many of whom had seen better days.

On the way from Calais or Boulogne to Paris one passed
through old Abbeville, the charm of which, with its red-
}.;abled fronts and its wealth of carving, had as yet hardly
been discovered. Amiens was more appreciated. The
situation of the city made it a convenient place for spend-
ing the night. It was recommended also for a longer stay,
being very cheap and affording excellent opportunities for
learning French.* Few Englishmen passed through Amiens
" v/ithout a visit to the cathedral," ^ and, despite its Gothic
architecture, they commonly bestowed upon it very hearty
praise.''

Not on the main route from Calais to Paris, but a con-
venient halting-place between Paris and the port of Dieppe,
was the picturesque city of Rouen, which was certain to be
visited by any one making the favorite tour of Normandy.
The streets were narrow, as in the older quarters they still
are, and none too clean, but its array of magnificent build-
ings and its historical associations brought many English
visitors.

Before arriving at Paris the tourist coming from Calais
usually passed through Chantilly and spent at least a little
time in seeing the palace, celebrated for its magnificence,
and in strolling through the forest, which, with its many
birds, its canals and fountains and cascades, made "this
one of the most charming places upon earth." * But even
Chantilly sometimes made an unpleasant impression, for
here was a trap for the unwary. ' ' Within one hundred yards
of the palace," says Nugent, "and almost adjoining the
stables, is the post-hou.se, where you are very well enter-
tained, but extravagantly dear, so that you must be upon
your guard in ordering dainties, if you consult economy." '^

Those who followed the post-route to Paris had only to
see vSaint-Denis, with its great abbey containing the gor-
geous royal tombs, and then they entered tho caj^ital of
France, which was in a sense the capital of Europe.

215

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

IV

Two Continental cities, Paris and Rome, were, in the
estimation of the eighteenth-century tourist, of more im-
portance than any others ; and to spend much time abroad
without visiting these two capitals was to leave the best
unseen. A great city like Paris, with its population of five
or six hundred thousand inhabitants ^ and its manifold
attractions, cannot well be disposed of in a few words, but
in our survey details must largely be left to the makers of
guide-books. What chiefly concerns us is the impression
that the city as a whole made upon English tourists.

The fascination that Paris had for all types of minds
before the French Revolution we can even yet in a measure
understand. But in the eighteenth century more truly,
perhaps, than in otu* own day, Paris was France and the
center of civilization. Most eighteenth-century books of
travel assumed without discussion the preeminence of
Paris over every other city of France, and, with an occa-
sional reservation on some detail, over every other city of
the world. Men and women of every type flocked there to
get a glimpse of the fashions and follies that all strove
to copy. To many Englishmen Paris was the only thing
worth crossing the Channel for, particularly if they had
made the Continental tour in their youth. Nowhere else,
at all events, was society so organized as to concentrate
all the talent of a great kingdom in one spot.

Paris ministered to the taste of travelers of every sort —
to the scholar, to the amateur in art, to the lover of music,
to the mere pleasure-seeker. Even the cautious Andrews,
in his "Letters to a Young Gentleman," ^ observes: "At
your time of life, Paris will in some respects prove a more
agreeable abode than London. You will in particular meet
with a much more frequent recurrence of sights and shews
to please you."

When travel was not interrupted by war Englishmen went
there in droves ' and took up their abode for some weeks or

216

crowning the bust of voltaire at the
theAtre francais in 1778

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

months in the fashionable and expensive quarter of Saint-
Germain.^ In the last third of the century the quarter near
the Palais Royal and the Place des Victoires was also pop-
ular.2 Good lodgings, however, were expensive and not
always easy to get. And at times even the best did not en-
tirely satisfy the critical tourist. Most Englishmen found
Paris inferior to London in plain, unpretending comfort.
Then as now, and far more than now, Parisian houses were
cold in winter. Walpole writes in 1767 to George Montagu:
" I shall not think of my journey to France yet; I suf-
fered too much with the cold last year in Paris, where they
have not the least idea of comfortable, but sup in stone
halls, with all the doors open." ^

In any case the process of getting comfortably settled de-
manded considerable attention from the tourist at the out-
set. But the makers of guide-books gave minute "direc-
tions for strangers upon their first coming to Paris," to
keep them from going astray: "As soon as you enter Paris,
you will be stopt in your chaise, and your pass and plumb-
ings, and every corner of the whole chaise will be examined.
When they have done, you order the postilion to drive to
the hotel you intend to lodge at ; otherwise he will endeavor
to carry you to his own favourite house, which has him in
fee. You will probably be followed from the place of search,
or from your entrance into Paris, to your hotel, by men-ser-
vants out of place, many of whom can speak a little broken
English, and have generally written characters in their
pockets of some English gentlemen whom they have served.
You may venture upon one whose character you most
approve of, and let him immediately begin and stay with
you, and assist in taking off your trunks, etc., but do not
hire him till the next day, when your banker or correspond-
ent is along with you, and you are thoroughly satisfied as
to his character. Thirty sols, or fifteen pence English a
day, is the usual wages, out of which he finds himself in
every thing, unless you give him a livery." ^

With the path thus smoothed, the most timid tourists
could hardly fail to take courage. At all events they came.

217

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

Walpole complains, in September, 1765, of the swarms of
English in the city, and expresses his satisfaction that
most of them are going away soon. "It certainly was not
my countrymen that I came to live with," says he.^

What to do with one's time in Paris was in part a matter
of individual taste. But travelers bent upon making the
conventional tour followed the lead of the guide-books, of
which even then there was no lack.^ Nugent suggests an
"Order to be observed in seeing the curiosities of Paris":
"You may begin, then, and spend three whole days in
seeing the Palace Royal, which is not too long a time for
examining the finest collection of paintings in Europe. The
next day you may visit the Hotel d'Antin, and that of
count Toulouse. Then you may see the palace of the
Tuilleries and the Louvre, the square called Place Venddme,
and the Place des Victoires, all of which are not far dis-
tant from one another." ^

Popular as Paris was with Englishmen, the city in the
eighteenth century, if judged by modem standards, was
far from being a paradise. The streets had for generations
had an unsavory reputation for filth,* and their indescrib-
able odor ^ could be detected long before one entered the
city. One tourist in 1787 characterizes the air in several
parts of Paris and the environs as "abominably fetid and
highly putrid." ^ Babeau ' finds the streets of Paris well
cared for. But such is not the opinion of eighteenth-cen-
tury travelers.^ Many of the streets were, indeed, well
paved, and they were supposed to be swept. But up to the
time of the Revolution the rubbish and sweepings were not
regularly collected and removed. Unmentionable vessels
were emptied from windows at night into the streets, and
the fragrance in the morning was overpowering. This
practice was, of course, not unknown in London. But
Paris was the arbiter of fashion and propriety for the rest
of the world!

As Paris had no footpaths, the mud in wet weather was
spattered upon every pedestrian by the swiftly driven car-
riages of the gentry. Arthur Young comments severely

218

LONDON IN HOLIDAY ATTIRE — THE LORD
MAYOR'S PROCESSION

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

upon the usual condition of the streets in his day: "Walk-
in^', which in London is so pleasant and so clean that ladies
do it every day, is here a toil and a fatigue to a man, and
an impossibility to a well dressed woman. The coaches
are numerous, and, what arc much worse, there are an in-
finity of one-horse cabriolets, which are driven by young
men of fashion and their imitators, alike fools, with such
rapidity as to be real nuisances, and render the streets ex-
ceedingly dangerous, without an incessant caution. I saw
a poor child run over and probably Icilled, and have been
myself many times blackened with the mud of the kennels.
Hence all persons of small or moderate fortune are forced
to dress in black, with ?jlack stockings." * Obviously, every
stranger of any social pretensions was compelled to follow
the fashion and make frequent use of carriages, though the
charges were high ^ and the quality low. Throughout most
of the century rigid custom prescribed that a well-born
tourist who spent some little time in any of the larger Con-
tinental cities should have a coach, a coachman, and a
lackey, and that after a certain hour he should not appear in
the streets without a cane in his hand and his hat under
his arm. Broadly speaking, this rule was not relaxed until
the French Revolution, though a growing simplicity of
attire marked the last quarter of the century, particularly
among those who strove for new effects.

But although the streets of Paris were narrow and not
too clean, they had long had throughout Europe a reputa-
tion for being exceptionally well lighted at night.^ And so
they were, in comparison with most Continental cities,
with "some eight thousand candles in damaged lanterns,
which went out every now and then with a gust and left
all in darkness." " By 1785 these had given place to the
argand cyHnder lamps or "lampes ang^Hques"; which, as
a delighted eontemporary notes, produced "an astonishing
brightness, without smoke." ^

Every city has its unattractive sides, which expose it to
criticism. In the eighteenth century Englishmen took no
small pleasure in pointing out features in which London

219

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

surpassed Paris. Before 1730, Breval, comparing London
with Paris, remarks: "With regard to regular publick
Places, the Advantage, notwithstanding their pompous
Decorations, is indisputably on our Side. There are but
four of these to the best of my Remembrance in all Paris,
and the biggest not so large as Red-lion-Square." ^

Horace Walpole often makes caustic comments upon
the things that he dislikes at Paris. Characteristically he
remarks in his letters : ' ' The charms of Paris have not the
least attraction for me, nor would keep me an hoiu* on their
own account. For the city itself, I can not conceive where
my eyes were: it is the ugliest beastliest town in the uni-
verse. I have not seen a mouthful of verdure out of it,
nor have they anything green but their treillage and win-
dow-shutters. Trees cut into fireshovels and stuck into
pedestals of chalk, compose their country. Their boasted
knowledge of society is reduced to talking of their suppers,
and every malady they have about them, or, know of." ^
"Perhaps this is her [Madame Roland's] first vision of
Paris, and it is natiu-al for a Frenchwoman to have her
head turned with it; though what she takes for rivers of
Emerald, and hotels of ruby and topaz, are to my eyes, that
have been ptirged with euphrasy and rue, a filthy stream,
in which every thing is washed without being cleaned,
and dirty houses, ugly streets, worse shops, and churches
loaded with bad pictures. Such is the material part of this
paradise." ^ And again: " It is not pleasant to leave groves
and lawns and rivers for a dirty town with a dirtier ditch,
calling itself the Seine." ^

Of the same tenor is the criticism of a professional
fault-finder like Hazlitt, about a half-century later. He
finds the streets narrow, the pavement bad, and he is
constantly afraid of being run over by reckless drivers.
In general: "Paris is a beast of a city to be in — to those
who cannot get out of it. Rousseau said well, that all
the time he was in it, he was only trying how he should
leave it." ^

Travelers often remarked upon the sharp contrasts

220

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

everywhere presented at Paris. One of the most friendly
critics complained of the long line of washerwomen along
the banks of the Seine: "This is an abominable nuisance,
and renders the views up the river, from the center of
the Pont de la Concorde the most complete melange
of filth and finery, meanness and magnificence I have
ever beheld." ^ But notwithstanding some defects Paris
was a brilliant city to look upon, and constantly improving
in appearance.2 Dr. Rigby in 1789 found there a greater
number of handsome buildings than in London.

Paris before the Revolution was not yet filled with the
artistic spoils of half Europe, as it was after Napoleon's
great campaigns, but it was already rich in libraries ^ and
works of art. The King's Library, the nucleus of the
present Bibliotheque Nationale, already contained by the
middle of the century "ninety thousand printed volumes
and near forty thousand MSS." ' There were collections
of pictures at the Louvre, the Tuileries, and particularly
at the Palais Royal, which were among the foremost in
Europe.^

To see all these treasures, conscientious tourists made
the rounds prescribed in the guide-books. The poet
Gray writes from Paris to his friend Aston: "Our Morn-
ings have been mostly taken up in Seeing Sights: few
Hotels or Chiurches have escaped us, where there is any-
thing remarkable as to building, Pictures or Statues. Mr.
Conway is as usual the companion of our travels, who,
till we came had not seen anything at all; for it is not
the fashion here to have curiosity." ^

The chief aim, indeed, of most people of fashion was to
waste time as gracefully as possible. Eighteenth-century
Parisians were not notably fond of out-of-door sports,
— though here and there an enthusiast took up English
horse-racing and fox-hunting and boxing, — but when
arrayed in all their finery, they enjoyed strolling in the
public gardens, or taking the air in a coach. An obser-
ver about 1770 remarks: They are "more extravagant
in their dress than in their eating and drinking : for though

221

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

a Frenchman eats nothing but soup meagre every day
in the week, you will rarely see him without his lac'd
coat, silk stockings, powdered hair, and lac'd ruffles,
which are often tack'd upon either false sleeves or a shirt
as coarse as a hop-sack." '

A favorite place of resort throughout the century
for Parisians and for tourists was the gardens of the
Tuileries. "Hither the ladies flock to reap the fruits of
their morning labour at their toilets, and the men no less
vain and extravagant than the women, to display their
feathers and embroider'd coats." ^ "The entrance into
these gardens," says Andrews, "is free to persons decently
clad; but vigorously interdicted to domestics in livery,
or women of servile appearance. Whoever they may be
that are admitted, they must not seem of the low classes." '
Not far away was the Palais Royal, with its great en-
closed garden, its crowds of curious sight-seers and women
of questionable character. Other attractive recreation
centers were "the course or ring for taking the air in
coaches: the garden of Luxemburg: the garden of Cond^:
the garden of Soubise: the king's garden: the garden
of the arsenal: the gardens of the archbishop near Notre
Dame: besides the Place Royale, and the avenues of the
Hotel de Breton Villiers, where a great many people
walk in the evening." ^ Especially popular was the
promenade along the fortifications. "Paris being walled
in, the ramparts, more than half round the whole city,
are adorned with four rows of stately trees, in the center
of which is a broad road for coaches, and on each side
very fine shady walks. Upon these ramparts are to be
seen, every fine evening, many of the people of fashion
in their coaches, which are often gaudy, but oftener truly
elegant, and painted in a most exquisite manner; not
with arms, crest, or initial letters, but with a variety of
pastoral scenes." ^

In the days of walled towns there was usually a swift
transition from city to open country; and such was the
case at Paris. Hazlitt makes an interesting comment

222

THE GARDENS AND WEST FRONT OF THE PALACE
OF THE TUILERIES AT THE END OF THE EIGHT-
EENTH CENTURY

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

upon the state of things in his time: "It is a blessing
to counterbalance the inconveniences of large cities built
within walls, that they do not extend far beyond them.
The superfluous population is pared off, like the pie-
crust by the circumference of the dish — even on the
court side, not a hundred yards from the barrier of Neuilly,
you see an old shepherd tending his flock, with his dog
and his crook and sheepskin cloak, just as if it were a
hundred miles off, or a hundred years ago. It was so
twenty years ago. I went again to see if it was the same
yesterday. The old man was gone, but there was his
flock by the road-side, and a dog and a boy, grinning
with white healthy teeth, like one of Murillo's beggar-
boys." '

When the tourist wearied of the galleries or the streets
he could sip coffee, tea or chocolate at a cafd ^ or could
drop in at the Cabinet Litt^raire in the Rue Neuve des
Petits Champs, and for four livres a month have the
privilege of reading the English newspapers.^ After the
diversions of the day there was still no lack at night.
Especially popular with tourists were the theaters. "Their
operas at Paris," says Nugent, "are extremely fine, the
music and singing excellent, the stage large and mag-
nificent, and supplied with good actors, the scenes well
suited, and changed almost imperceptibly; the dancing
exquisite; the cloathing rich and proper, and with great
variety; they are frequented by a vast concourse of the
nobility, who usually join in the chorus with the actors." ^
At the playhouses comedies were very popular; and as
for tragedy, "The most sprightly and fashionable people
of both sexes flock to these entertainments in preference
to all others, and listen with unrelaxed gravity and atten-
tion." ^

In any case there was abundant opportunity for killing
time. Says Andrews: "The amusements at Paris have
by some fretful peevish people been represented of insuffi-
cient variety to please the different taste of those num-
erous travellers that croud hither from all parts of Europe.

223

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

It is difficult to tell upon what ground this complaint is
founded. The theatres are open all the year, and there
is no day in the whole twelvemonth, which does not afford
some pastime or shew, either temporal or spiritual, if
one may use such an expression." ^

One might discourse endlessly upon Paris, upon the
churches, the palaces, the gardens, the theaters, the
opera, but for our purpose it is necessary to touch upon
only a few matters. Of particular interest to us is the
brilliant society that made Paris preeminent in Europe,'
and even more important is the all-pervasive influence
of the Parisian standards of dress, of manners, of speech,
which extended their imperious sway to every portion
of Europe that was thought to be worth \'isiting — to
Madrid, to St. Petersburg, to Rolognn. to Rome, to Naples,
to Vienna, to Berlin, as well as to the innumerable petty
courts of Germany. "Few nations in Europe," says
Sherlock, "have retained their original characters. They
have almost all adopted the French fashions and customs;
it is a uniform that they all wear; some aukwardly enough
— others wHlth more grace. The very small towns of
Germany have the same simplicity that they had in
the time of Tacitus; but in the large cities everything is
d la Franqaisc. It is so much better for the manners and
the table; and so much the worse for the morals. It
were to be ^\4shed that the Italians, who have nothing
to lose in point of morals, would imitate the French in
everything. In the north of Italy they are much Frenchi-
fied; but the inhabitants of the South are, dissimulation
excepted, such as nature formed them." ^

Polite society throughout Europe in the eighteenth
century was far more compact and acted more as a unit
than in our democratic days. There was, therefore,
far more pressure upon the traveler to conform to con-
ventional rules than in our time. Smollett complains
of the t}Tanny of fashion in France, and other tourists
echo the complaint in Italy and Germany. But even
Smollett felt obliged when at Paris to conform in every

224

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

particular to the dictates of French fashion: "When
an En^'Hshman comes to Paris, he cannot appear until
he has undergone a total metamorphosis.* At his first
arrival it is necessary to send for the taylor, peruquier,
hatter, shoemaker, and every other tradesman concerned in
the equipment of the human body. He must even change
his h;ucklcs, and the form of his ruffles; and, though at
the risk of his life, suit his cloaths to the mode of the
season. For example, though the weather should be
never so cold, he must wear his habit d'eti or de mi-saison,
without presuming to put on a warm dress before the
day which fashion has fixed for that purpose; and neither
old age nor infirmity will excuse a man for wearing his
hat upon his head, either at home or abroad. The good-
man, who used to wear the beau drap d'Angleterre, quite
plain all the year round, with a long bob, or tye pcrriwig,
must here provide himself with a camblet suit trimmed
with silver for spring and autumn, with silk cloaths for
summer, and cloth laced with gold, or velvet for winter;
and he must wear his bag-wig a la pigeon. This variety
of dress is absolutely indispensable for all those who pre-
tend to any rank above the mere bourgeois. On his
return to his own country all this frippery is useless.^
. . . Since it is so much the humour of the English at
present to run abroad, I wish they had antigallican spirit
enough to produce themselves in their own genuine Eng-
lish dress, and treat all the French modes with the same
philosophical contempt which was shown by an honest
gentleman, distinguished by the name of Wig-Middleton.
That unshaken patriot still appears in the same kind of
scratch pcrriwig, skimming-dish hat, and slit sleeve, which
were worn five-and-twenty years ago, and has invariably
persisted in this garb, in defiance of all the revolutions
of the mode." ^ And in his vigorous fashion the indig-
nant British censor continues: "Of all the coxcombs on
the face of the earth, a French petit maitre is the most
impertinent; and they are all petit mattres, from the mar-
quis who glitters in lace and embroidery to the gar^on

225

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

barhicr covered ^^nth meal, who struts with his hair in a
long queue, and his hat under his arm." *

A generation or more after Smollett's day, the well-
known traveler Eustace even ventured to recommend
the Scotch Highland costume in preference to the French :
"A few improvements might make it perfect, and qualify
it admirably for all the purposes of a national habit, and
would very soon, by its intrinsic merit and beaut}^ super-
sede the monkey attire of France." -

In order to escape amused comment, even though
politely concealed, English tourists were in general ad-
\'ised to take with them into France only indispensable
articles of dress and to add to their wardrobe after their
arrival: "Into a small tnmk I would have you put a
dozen of shirts; they ought to be much coarser than
the English in general wear them; otherwise their slovenly
manner of washing (which is by beating them with a
board against a stone in cold water) vnW soon oblige you
to buy others; half a dozen pairs of shoes; a pair of boots,
and buckskin breeches, would be requisite, as the French
leather is not proof against water: your stockings should
be silk, which is the fashion of France, even among the
meanest mechanics; these, with the cloaths on your back
and the hat on your head, with the best French diction-
ary and grammar extant, are all the luggage you ought
to take; for at the first town you propose to reside at,
you should fit out, d la mode de France, and continue so
as long as you reside in that country."^

He is a bold and not always wise man who defies the
judgment of the world; and even so sensible an English-
man as Arthur Young, while at Paris, yielded obedience
to fashions that he felt to be absurd. And although an
occasional grumbler objected, the great throng of tourists
fell into line and as far as possible conformed their dress
and their manners to the standards of Paris. Some Eng-
lish exquisites, indeed, with the proverbial zeal of new
converts, quite overdid the matter both at home and
abroad, and became the laughing-stock of Europe.

226

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

The diffusion of French fashions throughout the Con-
tinent proceeded in the leisurely eighteenth-century way,
owing to the slow means of transport. The inevitable
result was that, in proportion as cities were out of touch
with Paris, fashions were likely to be months or even
years behind those of the French capital. This was
true, in a measure, in England itself. For example, in
1774, in a letter to the Countess of Ossory, Walpole says:
"I hope there was no graver reason for his (Lord Ossory 's)
not coming, than not having a coat trimmed with Brus-
sels-point, or buttons to his cloaths, edged with fur, which
our English travellers, who never see good company in
Paris, are made to believe by their tailor, are French
fashions, and which I, who did live in good company,
never beheld there; nor, indeed, anything in dress that
was very absurd." *

Only by reasonable conformity to established modes
coiild an ordinary tourist — we can, of course, take no
account of Franklin in his plain cloth suit — hope to
be admitted to Parisian society, the epitome of all that
was illustrious in France. That society has been so often
described by brilliant pens that there is no need of going
over ground already familiar. It is enough to point out
a few characteristic features that particularly concern the
tourist.

We have already remarked upon the interest that
Frenchmen in the eighteenth century had begun to take
in the English and their ways. But the fact is notable
that true Parisians had long given little heed to the rest
of the world. "If something foreign arrives at Paris,"
says Walpole, "they either think they invented it, or
that it has always been there." ^ The growing popular-
ity of English fashions and ideas as the century progressed
was in a sense a forerunner of the Revolution.' One may
question whether eighteenth-century England and Eng-
lishmen altogether deserved to be idealized and idolized
in the fashion that became popular in the quarter-century
before the French Revolution, but love is proverbially

227

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SIWIN

blind. At all events, Eni^Hsh institutions as a wiiolo
marked a hii^h point of porfootion it\ comparisoti \ntii
any thing that France or Italy or Goniiany had attained.

Althoni;h many Fronchmou wore oai^vr to adopt Ktij;-
lish ways, thoy were not i\otable (ov aoquaititanee wnth
Enjjland. Walpole complains: "I could not a">nceivc
that they knew so very little of a country which has
lately been so much in vogue with them." * Through-
out the eot\tury Montesquieu and Voltaire were marked,
exceptions in their real familiarity witii the groat island
Idngdom. Most French visitors to England caught a
mere glimpse.

Upon these French birds of passage we have two char-
acteristic coniments: Gilly Williajns writes to Schvyn
from l>rii;htliohnstone (Brighton) in 1764: "You would
laugh at our collection, though I assure you wc arc much
obliged to France for sending us twice a week some very
extraordinary exotics. Barbers, milliners, barons, counts,
arrive here almost every tide, and they stay here till
their finances are so exhausted, that they decamp uf'on
the stage-coach and not in it." ^ And Walpole in 178^?
tells Mann in one of his letters: "We have swanns of
French here daily; but they come as if they had laid
wagers that there is no such place as England, and only
wanted to verify its existence, or that they had a mind
to dance a minuet on English ground; for they turn on
their heel the moment after landing." ^ Wliat Walpole
writes is never to be talvcn too literally. lie had himself
entertained in May, 1760, a large party of French gentle-
men and ladies of quality at Strawberry Rill.* and he
observed in his "Memoirs of George III"" that after
the peace with France muncrous French travelers visited
England," some even going as far as Ireland.

In far greater numbers were Englishmen in France;
and, if their rank permitted, they were very well received
in Parisian society. Wliat made social intercourse easier
and English travelers more welcome was the groNN-ing
popularity of English literature, at least in translations,

TOUli OF IWANCK AND SPAIN

in the yo.ncTHtum ju:;t ?x;foro the Revolution. Richarrlson,
for example, in Walpole's phrase, had "::tuperied the
whole French nation." ' With few exception.s, however,
Frenchmen had little or no mastery of spoken Eny]v.:h;^
and it may be dou?>t<;d whether even the most Anglicized
Frenchmen fully underr;tood the temperament of their
Enj^lish ^mests.

The French and the En;dish saw so many things from
difTerent points of view that it was only with large
reservations that most Englishmen prai:;od the French
people. As elsewhere pointed out, the average lower-
class, eighteenth-century English estimate of the French
was hostile and contemptuous,^ and some of this feeling
was inevitably shared by English tourists. The English
traveler Clenche remarks as a matter of course that
"all wise men naturally have a perfect aver;;ion for the
French." * And three generations later Lady Knight,
who spent much time in France and enjoyed her life there,
judged the French people severely. Writing to a friend
in 1793, she says: "Ambition and avarice are the two
leading passions of the French, consequently self-love
governs them, and I should be ashamed to say how very
few I know or have knov/n that I do not think hate all
other nations; nor do I believe anything can be more
hateful to the English nation than that the French
should be so mixed in our society; they will undermine
our national character. I wish a tax was to be laid on all
tutors and gouvernantes of that nation, nay even on
all servants."*^

Judgments so unreserved cannot be accepted without
qualification. But undoubtedly some charges have a large
basis of truth. For one thing, the English regarded the
French people in general as lacking in delicacy. vSays
Hazlitt, "A Frenchman (as far as I can find) has no idea
answering to the word nasty." ' This charge is repeated
by English travelers of every type. James Edward Smith
cites a striking experience of his in a French stage-coach.
His companions were reputable people of the middle

229

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

ranks of life, several merchants, "a lawj'-er, an elderly
woman of genteel appearance, and a beautiful girl of six-
teen. . . . Shall I record that in this company the most
undisguised and shocking descriptions were given of
the debaucheries of the capital, and particulars which
would scarcely be whispered in English discussed wdth
the utmost exactness." ^ Hazlitt had a similar experience
in the diligence between Evreux and Paris. ^ "The
Gentleman's Guide" (1770), in an unquotable pas-
sage,^ comments upon the astonishing frankness of the
conversation of "gentlemen and ladies"* in company
at Montpellier. One docs not expect Smollett, the author
of "Roderick Random" and "Humphry Clinker," to
be easily shocked at conversational freedom, but he says of
French people in his usual sweeping fashion: "They
are utter strangers to what we call common decency; and
I could give you some high-flavoured instances, at which
even a native of Edinburgh would stop his nose." ^

The charge of indelicacy was a very old one,® and it
is not unheard even in our day. A mild instance is the
following, cited by Birkbeck, who was traveling in south-
em France: When the diligence halted, "With the curi-
osity common to travelers we attended to the alighting
of this party : as the lady ^ stepped out of the carriage
she discovered a lapse of stocking, and continuing her
chat with the gentleman who had handed her out, she
deliberately adjusted it and tied her garter. This is
characteristic of southern France, and tends to settle a
point in natural history, — that a French lady's knee is
as modest as the elbow of an English lady; which I am
satisfied was the case in this instance." ^

From indelicacy to indecency the step was short. Eng-
lish tourists complain of the filthy practices almost uni-
versal in French towns, that made it painful for "a per-
son of the least delicacy or decency" to "walk through
their streets." ^

Very common, too, among men and women of all classes,
notwithstanding the stress laid upon forms of polite-

230

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

ness, was "the habit of spitting up and down their houses
and churches." ^ This practice, observes Young, "which
is amongst the highest as well as the lowest ranks, is de-
testable : I have seen a gentleman spit so near the cloaths
of a dutchess that I have stared at his unconcern." ^ "In
point of cleanliness," he remarks in the same passage,
"I think the merit of the two nations is divided; the
French are cleaner in their persons, and the English
in their houses; I speak of the mass of the people, and
not of individuals of considerable fortune." ' But the
king's ceremonial ablutions were usually on a very limited
scale. For his bath at the coucher, "the grand chamber-
lain presents him a towel moistened at one end . . . and
His Majesty washes his face and hands and wipes himself
with the unmoistened end."^ And there is no place al-
lowed for any more elaborate cleansing in the morning
ceremonial. This solemn function was witnessed morning
and evening by those whose rank entitled them to be
present, and they doubtless took pleasure in limiting
themselves to the same regimen as their sovereign.

The various sights of Paris were entertaining and in-
structive. But there still remained the brilliant French
society, access to which was by no means a matter of
course for English tourists. Walpole writes West in
1739: "We have seen very little of the people them-
selves, who are not inclined to be propitious to strangers,
especially if they do not play and speak the language
readily." And twenty-five years later, commenting
on Englishmen who were dissatisfied with their recep-
tion at Paris, he observes in a letter to the Earl of Hert-
ford: " If they are not content now, I wish they knew how
the English were received at Paris twenty years ago —
why, you and I know they were not received at all." ^
Another Englishman in 1769, commenting upon strangers
at Paris, remarks: "Nine tenths of them are never ad-
mitted into good company — or in other words, into their
supper parties, and all beside is mere form and ceremony
— whereas at London, Rome, and Naples, etc., a stranger

231

TOl R OF FllANCK AND SPAIN

of any rank cots into the most airtwablo parties \nih
little troublo: in this respect the unsociableness of tlie
French destroys the tnie politeness." '

The common complaint of the lack of FnMieh hospi-
tality was doubtless often in part due to the fact that a
French host felt no obligation to seek out strat\j;ers in
order to feed them. Lady Mor,i:;an tells of "an Kn>:Ush
gentleman, resident at Paris," who assured her "that
an IrishTnan. whom he had known in France nvmy years,
left his sm;Ul fortxme to the only I'Venchman who had ever
offered him a dinner; at once to mark his owni gratitude
and the rarity of the event." But she adds: "The out-
cry, indeed, amongst the strangers who now \nsit Paris,
against the want of hospitality in its inhabitants, is much
more universal than it is well founded. . . . No hospi-
tality, and indeed no fortune, could hold out against
those legions of the idle and imoccupied, who, in the ex-
uberance of we;ilth. or of curiosity leave England to —
Promener leur ennui ailleurs." ' And she adds; "Few
persons, I imagine, well introduced by letters of recom-
mendation, or by their personal talents, or celebrity, \rill
join in this outcry against French hospitality; or will
deny that the access to a Frencli house, where the stranger
has once been received, is both easy and gracious. It is,
however, quite true, that dinners of cea^nony are by no
means so general in Paris as in London or Dublin." "'

Unquestionably, the reception that the tourist got
depended largely upon his social standing and his person;U
characteristics. For example, just after the great Revolu-
tion had spent its fury, the genial John Carr was received
with the most unallected kindness into the households
of French people of charming manners. At the conclu-
sion of his Nnsit he says: "I had to part \\'ith those who,
in the short space of one fleeting month, had by their
endearing and flattering attentions . . . made me forget
that I was even a 5/ra«grr." *

Once admitted to French society the English as a rule
found much to criticize. Lady Montagu's satirical por-

232

TOUR OF IRANCE AND SPAIN

trait of French ladies in 1718 anticipates the sketches of
half a century later. "I have seen all the beauties, and

such (I can't help making use of the coarse word)

nauseous creatures! so fantastically absurd in their dress!
so monstrously unnatural in their paints! their hair cut
short, and curled round their faces, and so loaded with
powder, that it makes it look like white wool! and on
their cheeks to their chins, unmercifully laid on, a shining
red japan, that glistens in a most flaming manner, so
that they seem to have no resemblance to human faces.
I am apt to believe, that they took the first hint of their
dress from a fair sheep newly radflled." ^ Travelers
admit that the ladies of Paris have "the most enchanting
airs in the world and an eternal show of vivacity in their
eyes." 2 But, says one, "the women of rank make them-
selves hideous by great blotches of paint upon their cheeks,
which, in some ladies, are as well defined as the circumfer-
ence of a circle, and as red as the Saracen's Head upon
a sign-post." ^ But in spite of the too abundant rouge
and puffs and powder. Englishmen of social instincts
found themselves, particularly during the second half of
the century, very much at home in many circles of Pari-
sian society. As in some of the higher society of England,
cards and billiards occupied a good part of the day. Says
Nugent: "They are much addicted to gaming, which is
the very soul of all their assemblies, and the only means
for a foreigner to ingratiate himself in their company." *
And Walpole observes: "In French houses it is impos-
sible to meet with anything but whist, which I am de-
termined never to learn again. I sit by and yawn; which,
however, is better than sitting at it to yawn." ^ Gambling
was, indeed, almost obligatory for one who wished to
be popular in Parisian society." For, as Dr. Moore re-
marks upon his admittance to exclusive companies under
the patronage of a French marquis: "Nothing can be a
greater proof of his influence in some of the most fashion-
able circles than his being able to introduce a man with-
out a title, and who never games." ' And it was well

233

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

he did not, for, as Smollett observes, people of high rank
"learn to play not barely for amusement, but also with a
view to advantage." ^ Or, in the words of a much earlier
writer, "Even the ladies do not want tricks to strip a
bubble." 2

Obviously, eighteenth-century Parisian society had no
very rigid standard of morals. One might, indeed, ob-
serve that an Englishman of fashion had no need to go
abroad in order to become an accomplished rake. But
Paris offered irresistible attractions to a free-liver. Im-
morality was there cultivated as a fine art. "This liber-
tinism," says Keysler, "takes so with young travellers
that they look upon it as the chief accomplishment that
they are to acquire in France; and, indeed, the young
gentlemen who come from Paris are as well known as
a bird is by its note." ^

Two generations later, Carr, one of the friendliest of
critics, remarks: "The married women of France feel
no compunctious visitings of conscience in cherishing
about them a circle of lovers, amongst whom their hus-
bands are merely more favored than the rest." ^ He is
good enough to add that he thinks the relations platonic.

Moralists as a rule tend to deliver sweeping judgments,
and Paris was a frequent theme for denunciation. Be-
yond question Paris was a perilous city for wealthy young
strangers who were not averse to forbidden pleasures.
But exaggeration is easy; and the sober judgment of
Nugent is probably not far astray: "The young people
(of France) are debauched and irreligious; but we must
own that this is compensated by the solidity and judi-
cious behaviour of those who are more advanced in
life." 5

But, after all, the chief complaint against the French
was of another sort, — that they could not be trusted.
They were "charged with insincerity in their complais-
ance, and with being little better than genteel hypocrites
in their cringes and impertinent ceremonies." ^ It is in-
deed true that manners in the higher circles of English

234

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

society were in a measure an imitation of the manners of
Paris, with their ease and gayety. Many Englishmen of
fashion found in France all that made life seem worth liv-
ing. Young men were sent abroad as much for the sake
of learning the graces as for any other reason. But in
general English imitation of French traits was liable to be
awkward. "What strikes me the most, upon the whole,"
says Walpole, "is the total difference in manners between
them and us." ^ The Frenchman was trained from his
earliest childhood to respond instinctively to the lightest
touch, and to utter small courtesies with every breath. The
more impassive Englishman remained stolid. Less grace-
ful in manner and in speech, he prided himself on his blunt
sincerity. "I am very far from thinking," says one, "that
the plain and honest character of an Englishman is not
preferable to a glittering superficies of politeness." ^ Most
Englishmen took the French too seriously. "A French-
man," says Dr. Moore, "not only means nothing beyond
common civility by the plentiful shower of compliments
which he pours on every stranger; but also, he takes it
for granted that the stranger knows that nothing more is
meant." ^

Whether sincere or not, French courtesy smoothed the
way for multitudes of English totuists. Nearly all strangers
found the French people amiable.^ People in France did
not stare at clothes out of fashion,^ and they even toler-
ated English French. Of this considerate kindliness Moore
cites a striking instance. At Strassburg he attended a play
which presented the English in a ridiculous light. "An
old French officer, who was in the next box to us, seemed
uneasy and hurt at the peals of laughter which burst from
the audience at some particular passages : He touched my
shoulder and assured me that no nation was more respected
in France than the English."^ Elsewhere Moore remarks:
' ' A stranger, quite new and unversedin their language, whose
accent is uncouth and ridiculous in the ears of the French,
and who can scarcely open his mouth without making
a blunder in grammar or idiom, is heard with the most

235

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

serious attention, and never lauj^hed at. even when he
litters the oddest solecism or equivocal expression." '

But as most Eni^Hshmen were measurably aware of
their deficiencies, the French not unnatur;illy found thetn
inclined to be silent in company. Englishmen, in their
tuni, accustotned to hear the French extolled for bril-
liancy in conversation, noted with wonder the silence
of French people when they might have been expected
to be talkative. Says Young: "I came to this king-
dom expecting to have my ears constantly fatigued
with the infinite volubility and spirits of the people, of
which so many persons have written, silting. I suppose,
by their English firesides. At Montpellier, though fif-
teen persons and some of them ladies were present, I
found it impossible to make them break their inflexible
silence \\'ith more than a monosyllable, and the whole
company sat more like an assembly of tongue-tied quakers,
than the mixed company of a people famed for loquacity." "
Young notes the same thing at Nimes and at Rouen:
"Of all smnbrc and trtste meetings a French tabic dliote
is foremost; for eight minutes a dead silence, and as to
the politeness of addressing a conversation to a foreigner,
he ^^'ill look for it in vain. Not a single word has any
where been said to me unless to answer some question." ^
Even in our day the tourist in France can hardly avoid
noting that Frenchmen not already acquainted aa^ im-
likcly to distract their attention from the serious business
of eating for the siike of exchanging remarks with strangers.

The discussion of French traits has drawn us away from
the capital. Our survey of Paris is necessarily incom-
plete at many points, since we can only glance at a few
characteristic features and pass on. But we have ob-
scr\'ed enough to realize some of the features that com-
pelled every tourist to include Paris in his Continental
journey.

We must now glance at a few other characteristic
French cities. We cannot enumerate all the various
excursions commonly made from Paris, — to Saint-Cloud,

236

TOCK OF i KANCP: and SPAIN

to Marly, to Saint-Denis, to Vinccnnes, to Fontaine-
bloau, — but wc must give a word to Versailles. The
splendor of this royal abode had already somewhat faded
in the course of the ei^^hteenth century. The magni-
ficent gardens and fountains were often neglected, and
the hedges and trees withered. ^ Some Englishmen, to
their credit be it said, had sufficient discernment to CTiti-
cizo the defects at Versailles. Walpolo in 1739 describes
"the great front" of the palace as "a lumber of little-
ness, composed of black brick, stuck full of bad old Vjusts,
and fringed with gold rails." ^ Another traveler finds in
1769 that "the ornaments of Trianon and Marly . . .
are in a most false and vicious taste." ^ And still another,
commenting on the palace, observes in 1773: "The
apartments are dirty, which cannot be wondered at, when
you are told that all the world rove about the palace at
pleasure; I went from room to room as my choice directed
me, into the King's bed-chamber, dressing-room, etc.,
in all of which were numbers of people, and many of them
indiflcrently clad." *

By the middle of the century Versailles had lost also
much of the social brilliancy that had marked it in the
days of the great Louis. The court was eclipsed by the
Parisian salons. But, nevertheless, no tourist felt that
he had seen France until he had seen Versailles, for, as
Babeau remarks, "all the courts of Europe were modelled
on that of Versailles"; as were "all the salons on that
of Paris." 5

The visitor could go by water as far as Sevres and then by
carriage to the palace, or he could drive all the way.
Nugent remarks: "You may have a gay and easy gilt
coach or chariot, and a coachman, with a good pair of
horses, for twelve livres, which is about ten shillings a
day, to attend you from seven in the morning till mid-
night, and to carry you to Versailles, etc." One required
a special contract, witnessed before a notary, to enable
the coachman to pass outside the gates of Paris .^

Visitors could look up in De la Force ^ the ceremonial

237

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

attending the dining and supping of the king in public and
be admitted to gaze upon the meals of His Most Sacred
Majesty. At Versailles, too, one might, like Burke,
mingle in the gayly attired throngs that moved through
the long corridors and the vast halls of the palace. The
court doubtless was, as an English lady assured Young,
"amazingly splendid," and assuredly one of the most
memorable sights of Etirope.

V

What remained to be seen in France besides Paris
and its environs was, in the opinion of most tourists, of
relatively small importance. Whoever made the grand
tour set out sooner or later for Italy and followed the
traditional routes. Yet the journey to Italy compelled
even the most indifferent traveler to see, at least in passing,
more than one notable provincial city. Tourists really
bent upon getting an intelligent familiarity with the
country supplemented this conventional journey by
various pilgrimages in the great region west of the Rhone
and south of the Seine. With the improvement in ac-
commodations at the inns and the bettering of the means
of travel, a tourist could shape his course through France
very much as he pleased, though we need hardly re-
mark that his curiosity did not lead him very often to
places of minor importance that lay off the main routes.
It is, indeed, rather amusing to see with what haste the
average traveler, after a stay in Paris, took his flight for
the South. His route commonly led him down the valley
of the Rhone, partly by carriage and partly by boat, on
the direct way to Italy.

Contemporary guide-books supply the details: "Those
who intend," says Nugent, "to travel from Paris to Italy
must set out for Lyons, to which city there are three
different routes, viz., two post-roads, and a third used by
the diligence. Again there are four different routes from
Lyons to Italy ; the first and pleasantest, but longest about,

238

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

is by Marseilles and Toulon, at either of which places there
are daily opportunities of vessels going to Genoa; but if
you don't like the sea, you may proceed by the post-route
from Aix to Nice, and thence by land to Genoa, or any
other part of Italy: the second, somewhat shorter, is by
Geneva and Swisserland; the third, still shorter, is by
Grenoble and Briangon: and the fourth, as short as the
preceding, is by Pont Beauvoisin. The diligence from Paris
to Lyons sets out every other day from the Hotel de Sens,
near the Ave Maria; the price to each passenger seventy-
five livres. For your baggage you pay five sols a pound,
except twenty-five pounds, which you have free. There
are likewise coaches at the same place that set out every
third day at four in the morning, and winter and summer
go through Burgundy. You have also water carriages
from Paris to Lyons; the fare to each passenger is thirty
five livres, and you are ten days upon the road."^ "From
Lyons you may go down as far as Avignon by water; for
there are boats that descend the Rhone almost every day,
and move with great expedition on this rapid river." ^

The entire valley of the Rhone presented the double at-
traction of being a part of the ordinary route to Italy and
of offering a large number of towns full of Roman remains ;
at Vienne a temple; at Orange an arch and a vast theater;
at Nimes an exquisite temple and a magnificent amphi-
theater ; at the Pont du Gard, a stupendous Roman aque-
duct; at Aries an ancient theater, an amphitheater, and
many broken survivals of the wealthy Graeco-Roman city.
And these are but a hint of the riches of this famous
district.

Part of the stream of travel setting toward Italy naturally
tended toward Dijon. This charming old city was popular
with strangers, being notable for the cheapness of living and
the courtesy of the inhabitants. As early as 1730 sixteen
English families were settled there.^ Of high reputation was
the French spoken at Dijon. "The Gentleman's Guide"
remarks:^ "Here the French language is spoke with
greater propriety than at Paris, or any other town in the

239

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

kingdom, tho' Blois had formcrlj^ that reputation. I do not
know any town in France preferable to this for the resi-
dence of any gentleman."

Lyons, the second city of the kingdom, with a popula-
tion of about a hundred thousand,* was, as we have seen,
on the main route to Italy, and thus caught a good many
tourists as they went through. Gray incidentally remarks
in one of his letters that while he was there "near thirty"
English were then passing through L3'-ons "on their way to,
Italy and the South." "^ Here, too, Evelyn a century earlier
had met at the Golden Lion "divers of his acquaintance,
who, coming from Paris, were designed for Italy." ^

Dr. Moore counted Lyons the most magnificent town
in France, after Paris. Its situation brought commerce,
wealth, and population. The inns were famous for their
la\'ish display of plate, and they were thronged during the
tourist season by Englishmen on their way to or from Italy.
The great merchants lived on a grand scale and impressed
strangers ^^'ith their profusion. Mrs. Piozzi says: "Such
was the hospitality I have here been witness to, and such
the luxury of the Lyonnois at table, that I counted thirty-
six dishes where we dined and twenty-four where we
supped. Every thing was served up in silver in both
places." ^

But Lyons had the unkempt appearance so common in
French provincial towns in the eighteenth century. Criti-
cal strangers noted "the extreme narrowness of the streets,
which are badly paved and ever dirty; and the villanous
ragged paper wdndows, wdth which every house (except
those of the richest merchants) is so abominably defaced."^

At Lyons one had the choice of continuing down the
Rhone or of turning to the east for the journey over the
Alps. If one had no time to spare, the journey was unin-
terrupted until the mountains were safely scaled. But
more leisurely tourists paused a little to see Grenoble and
the Grande Chartreuse, and perhaps spent a few days or
weeks at Chamb^ry.

Grenoble, situated on the Isere and encircled by snow-

240

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

capped mountains, with the crest of Mont Blanc filling the
horizon to the east, saw a good number of English tourists
every year on their way to or from Italy.

Many English tourists went up from Grenoble to the
Grande Chartreuse, thirteen miles distant, — one of the
most interesting specimens in France of a great monastery.
There was little of the medieval that greeted the eight-
eenth-century visitor to the Grande Chartreuse, for it had
eight times been rebuilt after fires. The poet Gray visited
it twice while on his long tour, once with Walpole and once
alone on the return journey, and was profoundly impressed
by the romantic surroundings. The narrow road up the
mountain gorge was counted dangerous and struck terror
to the heart of the traveler.^ As an illustration of the chang-
ing attitude toward wild scenery it is very suggestive to
contrast Gray's well-known description of the monastery
and its situation with the account by Clcnchc, who many
years before had visited "this miserable place." Clenche
found it "Scituate in the most solitary place that can be
found in the world, amongst horrid mountains, worse than
the Alpes, and the way from Chambdry, hewn out of the
side of rocks in steps, with continual precipices, a roaring
torrent in the bottom, and through the melancholy shade
of pines and fir-trees; the house large, but far from being
beautiful or regular. ... A stranger that is so foolishly
curious as to come here is lodged for a night ; and a father,
whose particular business it is, entertains him, and in the
morning he records himself in a book at his going away." ^

But it is time to return to the tourist making his way
down the Rhone. A little below Lyons was Vienne. The
town was dingy and dismal, as it is to-day, but its an-
tiquity was obvious to the most careless eye, and to the
archaeologist it was a place of rare interest.

If the tourist descended the Rhone by boat, as he was
commonly advised to do, he was in some trepidation until
he had safely passed the Pont Saint-Esprit, where the river
runs "with considerable rapidity." '

The next point of interest was Orange, a few miles to the

241

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

east of the Rhone. The great glory of Orange, in the eye of
the modem tourist, is the Roman theater. But an EngHsh-
man like Clenche passes it by wnthout mention, and merely
notes Orange as "a little town very ancient, as the mines of
the antiquities do show. ' ' * Breval was three times at Orange,
the last time in 1 730. He remarks upon the theater: "The
Area within is now a kind of Suburb to Orange, fill'd with
poor and mean tenements like the Amphitheatres of Nimes
and Aries." ^ On his last xnsit he found the famous trium-
phal arch cleared of much of the accumulated rubbish. Up
to 1 72 1 two-thirds of it had been buried in the soil.

A little farther south lay Avignon, facing the castle-
crowned heights of Villcncuve. Ancient Av-ignon, with
its encircling crenellated walls, and the palace of the
Popes — grim and mighty — rising above the Rhone and
the broken arches of the medieval bridge, was singularly
picturesque. In the Franciscan church was the tomb of
Petrarch's Laura. Outside the town walls in every direc-
tion stretched \aneyards alternating with groves of olives
and oranges and lemons.

A\^gnon commonly served as a stopping place for tour-
ists on their way to or from Italy. Trade was small, but
there were many wealthy inhabitants and many social
attractions.' We note ^\'ith interest that Avignon was
"the residence of a vast number of handsome Englisli gen-
tlemen, who were obliged to fly their country with the
unfortunate chevalier in 1745."* "There are some very
good sort of English there," writes the Dowager Countess
of Carlisle to Sclwjm in 1779.^ The life was not exciting
but very wholesome for jaded tourists. People kept early
hours and unless bent upon evil found little in their sur-
roundings to lead them astray.

From Avignon travelers commonly made a little detour
to the southwest for the sake of seeing Nimes and the noble
Roman aqueduct that spans the Gard. The ancient build-
ings at Nimes — the exquisite temple known as the Maison
Carrie,* the Roman baths, and the magnificent Roman
amphitheater — were highly esteemed by tourists, who

242

SOUTH SIDE OF THE ROMAN TRIUMPHAL ARCH AT
ORANGE, DEDICATED TO THE P:MPER0R TIBERIUS

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

counted the place "a second Rome." ' Arthur Young
thought the temple to be "beyond comparison the most
light, elegant, and pleasing building "* he had ever seen.
Throughout the easy-going eighteenth century the amphi-
theater here, as at Aries, was half-h>uried in the accumu-
lations of soil. The area was "filled up . . . with little
houses of tradesmen," ^ and on the exterior shabby tene-
ments made a squalid fringe.* Not until after the Revolu-
tion was the structure restored to something like its orig-
inal state. But although old buildings were somewhat
neglected by the authorities, the tourist business, as Smol-
lett's account shows, was sufficiently active. "I had no
sooner alighted at the inn than I was presented with a
pamphlet, containing an account of Nismcs and its an-
tiquities, which every stranger buys. There are persons,
too, who attend in order to show the town, and you will
always be accosted by some shabby antiquarian, who pre-
sents you with medals for sale, assuring you that they are
genuine antiques, and were dug out of the Roman temple
and baths. All these fellows are cheats; and they have
often laid under contribution raw English travellers, who
had more money than discretion." ^

After Nimes the next main halting-place was Aries. At
Aries Brcval notes that the amphitheater "is crowded, to
the scandal of the Magistrates, with beggarly tenements,
that compose a sort of dirty little Town, and quite obstruct
the View of one of the most magnificent Fabricks of the
kind that is to be met with any where out of Italy." He
goes on to speak of "the diffictdty and expence of clearing
away such immense heaps of rubbish, a charge few cities
could or would at this time be at, merely to preserve an
antiquity of no manner of use to the publick." ' There can
be little question that the eighteenth-century tourist far
less keenly appreciated the classical, and particularly the
medieval, remains at Aries than does the educated tourist of
our day. Saint-Trophime, with its exquisite cloister, stirred
no enthusiasm in minds that obstinately regarded all
medieval architecture as barbarous.

243

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

Aix in Provence, easily reached by the tourist on the
way from Aries to Marseilles, was extremely popular with
the English. The modern tourist finds much of the town
rather dingy and dull, but, according to eighteenth-century
standards, it was handsomely built, adorned with "spa-
cious squares and beautiful fountains," ^ and in attractive-
ness was counted inferior only to Paris. Says "The Gen-
tleman's Guide":' "This town will perhaps please you
better than any you have yet seen in France, tho' deficient
in amusements, except when the parliament is setting:
in winter it is extremely pleasant."

Those who preferred to coast along the Riviera to Italy
rather than cross the mountains found it convenient to
embark at Marseilles, then a prosperous commercial city
of about a hundred thousand inhabitants.^ One of the
most ancient cities in Europe, Marseilles nevertheless
offered singularly little in the way of antiquity to attract
the tourist, and practically nothing noteworthy of any
other period. But social life was agreeable there and some-
times tempted travelers to make a considerable stay,*
even beyond the time necessarily spent in the city while
arranging to go elsewhere.

Nearly forty miles southeast of Marseilles lay Toulon, a
flourishing seaport which many tourists preferred to INIar-
seilles as a point of departure for Italy. Eight miles east
of Toulon, Hycres attracted tourists who sought a mild
climate. One day, saj^s Arthur Young, his "landlord
worried" him "with a list of the English that pass the
winter at Hyeres." ^

As for other now popular resorts, they had not yet begim
to attract the routine tourist. Cannes was only an old
coast town in the eighteenth century, though Smollett's
sharp eyes detected the possibilities that have made it the
most exclusive, as well as the most expensive, watering-
place of the Riviera.

The Ri\'iera was, indeed, only beginning to be appreciated
in the middle of the eighteenth century. Dr. Thomas Lino-
lett in 1 7 1 4 had discovered the attractions of Nice, which

244

ROMAN TEMPIJ-:, THE MAISON CARRKK AT MMES

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

was not yet a French possession, and from that time on it
became increasingly popular as a health resort for the
"hectic English" on their way to or from Italy. Smollett
passed about a year and a half in the place, leaving there in
May, 1765. He recorded his characteristic impressions
and confessed that the only friendships he made at Nice
were with strangers sojourning like himself for a season.
Dupaty notes in 1785 that "the country houses of the
environs of Nice are peopled with EngHsh, with French,
with Germans; each of them is a colony." ^ James Edward
Smith, who was at Nice somewhat later, was "disgusted
with the gross flattery paid here to strangers, and to the
English in particular. The whole neighborhood has the
air of an English watering-place." "

Nice was popular, but judged by the scale of modem re-
sorts, it was a small affair. Arthur Young, who visited the
town in 1789, tells us that "the place is flourishing; owing
very much to the resort of foreigners, principally English,
who pass the winter here, for the benefit and pleasure of the
climate." And in proof of its poptilarity he goes on to say :
"Last winter there were fifty-seven EngHsh and nine
French; this winter they think it will be nine English and
fifty-seven French." ^

A few miles east of Nice lay Monaco, where in 1785
Dupaty noted "two or three streets upon precipitous rocks;
eight hundred wretches dying of hunger; a tumble-down
castle ; a battallion of French troops." " But of the throngs
of strangers who in our day have made the neighboring
Monte Carlo the most famous center of gambling in the
world there was no sign in the eighteenth century.

VI

The ordinary tour from Calais through Paris to the Alps
or the Mediterranean was no small undertaking, and it
demanded as great an outlay of money and time as many
travelers could afford. They therefore went, as we have
seen, through to Italy by way of Paris and Lyons, ignoring

245

\

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

everything in France outside a few notable cities. A typical
case is Dr. John Moore, who saw little besides Paris, Lyons,
and Strassbnrg.^ But less hurried travelers, particularly if
not bent upon going to Italy, endeavored to see some other
portions of France. Babeau points out that already in 1 6 7 2 ,
Le Sieur de Saint-Maurice had printed a guide for the use
of strangers traveling in France. In this book he describes
the principal routes that the Germans, the English, and the
Hollanders followed in going to Paris. Then he outlines
"le grand et le petit tour de France" — the grand tour
by Lyons, Marseilles, Toulouse, Bordeaux, and Paris; the
little tour from Paris to Tours and Poitiers. ^ These plans
for a tour remained popular throughout the eighteenth
century, and were followed with manifold variation by Eng-
lish travelers. If they returned from Italy through France,
they were likely to vary their course by coming up through
the country to the west of the Rhone.

In Italy, the geographical situation of Rol5ie and Naples
in a sense compelled a tour following one of two or three
routes. But France in the eighteenth centiuy was covered
with a network of well-kept post-roads leading from Paris
to the chief seaports of the north and the south and to the
larger cities of the provinces. Yet until the advent of the
motor-car, which has made the remotest comers of France
easily accessible, luxtuious tourists, even within recent
years, showed some disinclination to venture far from well-
known centers. To enimierate all the places in France
which are now counted as of exceptional interest, but in the
eighteenth century were commonly neglected, would be an
endless task. Some regions, indeed, as, for example, La
Vendue, were ill provided with roads, but the lack did not
greatly disturb the average tourist, who had no desire what-
ever to traverse La Vendee. Even yet it is by no means an
ordinary tourist center. But as an indication of the change
in attitude since the eighteenth centiury, we may comment
upon a few districts of another type.

A good representative of average eighteenth-century
taste is Nugent, who omits from his "Grand Tour" what-

246

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

ever is not likely to serve the needs of ordinary tourists.
For example, he makes no mention of Cluny, Seez, Fou-
geres, Vichy, Biarritz, Pau, LePuy, Bourg (with the won-
derful church of Brou), P6rigueux, Angouleme, and scores
of other places. Too much should not be made of mere
omission from a guide-book of moderate size, but some
places at least in this list would find mention in the briefest
of modem guides. No portion of France to-day is more
admired than the valley of the Loire, where, among other
attractions, are the chateaux of Azay le Rideau and Chen-
onceaux, the fascinating abbey of Fontevrault, and the
richly restored ^ch^teau of Langeais. But Nugent passes
them all by in his "Grand Tour" without a word. To
Clenche, Amboise was nothing but "a wretched little wall'd
town" with an "old ruinous castle." ^ Blois had "nothing
good in it but its scituation." ^ Breval in his day made the
round of the chateaux in the valley of the Loire, but he
omits all mention of Azay-le-Rideau, Chenonceaux, and
the historic ruins of Loches.

But we must not imagine that eighteenth-century tourists
failed to get keen satisfaction from a good number of the
regions they visited. In their fashion they were fond of the
valley of the Loire. The ancient city of Tours attracted
many English, some of whom constantly resided there.
"No city in France," says Evelyn, "exceeds it in beauty
or delight." ^ He spent nineteen weeks in the place; and
eighteenth-century tourists felt very much at home there.
The French spoken at Tours was regarded as exceptionally
good, and the ways of the people agreeable. As for Blois,
"this," says Nugent, "is one of the pleasantest cities^in
France , . . Here the French tongue is spoken in its
greatest purity." ^ But the beautiful chateau was much
neglected in the eighteenth century, and so badly out of
repair that few tourists found- it worthy of praise.

Further up the Loire, Orleans, with its historic memo-
ries, its handsome streets, its interesting architecture, its
quiet and beautiful environs with their wealth of plain and
forest, satisfied the taste of the eighteenth century and .

247

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

attracted a good share of English tourists. " 'Tis now,"
says Nugent, "one of the largest and pleasantest cities in
France. . . . The streets are neat and broad, and the
houses in general are fair and beautiful, though ancient." ^

West of the Rhone Valley and south of the Loire are some
of the most interesting towns in France, most of which,
however, received little or no intelligent attention from
eighteenth-century tourists. As a single instance, take
Carcassonne, perhaps the most picturesque example in
France of the fortified towns of the Middle Ages. But
Breval devotes twenty lines to Carcassonne without special
mention of the medieval fortifications, merely observing
that "it has a strong modern castle which commands it." ^
Clenche's remarks are distinctly contemptuous. Carcas-
sonne, says he, "is in two parts, both distinctly Wall'd,
call'd the citty and the town, but neither of them worth
notice, nor yet the castle; the country here is stony and
barren, and about this town are the first olive-trees I have
found." 3

The modern tourist will, however, be interested to learn
that Breval sufficiently appreciated the exquisite church of
Brou to count it "as well with respect to its architecture
as to the monuments . . . one of the noblest modem Pieces
in the South of France." *

Naturally enough, the wild and beautiful valleys that
cut into the northern slopes of the Pyrenees were neglected
by tourists, for here, as elsewhere, the charm of the moun-
tains was hardly felt. Throughout Europe the change in
taste since 1750 has opened scores and even hundreds of
resorts in the mountains and along the seashore that to
eighteenth-century tourists seemed to offer nothing.

We can by no means consider all the provincial towns of
France that were visited by curious and active tourists.
We must remember that individual Englishmen often hid
themselves in unfrequented corners of the country. But
with few exceptions the towns along the main routes ab-
sorbed the interest of sight-seers.

Such a tour was Sterne's in 1762. "On Monday the

248

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

nineteenth of July, as near as can be made out, the Sternes
began the long and expensive journey to Toulouse by way
of Lyons, Avignon, and Montpellier, travelling by post
most of the way, as was Sterne's custom. Their chaise,
which was narrow and cramped, despite the care for Lydia's
feet, they piled with baggage, before and aft, mountains
high. For such a load were necessary at least four horses
with two postillions, which would be exchanged for fresh
ones at the successive stages. As the posts were then
farmed out by the king, the exactions were most oppres-
sive, especially at royal posts like Lyons, where one paid
double. . . . Sterne chose the longest route to Toulouse
with the manifest intent of sight-seeing. To this end he
took along, as any one may see, the ' Nouveau Voyage en
France,' by Piganiol de la Force, the Baedeker of the
period, who mapped out all the post-roads, and described
all the things which a traveler should observe by the way
and at the halting-places." ^

Sterne and his family spent more than a year at Toulouse,
and their choice is not surprising. Those who wished to
make a prolonged stay in France found the old historic
city full of interesting survivals of medieval and Renais-
sance architecture, and remarkably inexpensive. "The
Gentleman's Guide" unreservedly says: "I know no
town in France where an Englishman may learn the polite
arts and sciences at so easy a rate, or live cheaper, or more
to his satisfaction, on a small income." 2 Lady Knight
lived a considerable time at Toulouse, and she writes in
1776: "Most of the Irish, Scotch, and a few EngHsh that
are here game high, but" there is a great deal of very good
company." ^

But here as elsewhere there were some drawbacks.
Even after the French Revolution we are told: "Toulouse
is large and well-bmlt, but horribly filthy. It contains
67,000 inhabitants, and has much the appearance of pros-
perity. How the people of this place, and of some others in
the South of France, can tolerate the detestable stench of
their own nuisances, is marvellous." ^

249

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

Easily accessible to tourists on the way to or from Italy,
Montpellier offered special attractions to Englishmen,
many of whom passed a few days or weeks in the town.
Says Nugent, "Vast numbers of consumptive people flock
hither from all parts of Europe, especially from England, to
breathe this air, which is said to have a good effect upon
bodies of a moist and phlegmatic temperament." ^ Even
the irascible Smollett, who was there shortly before Sterne,
has a good word for the place, which was noted for its
sociability and the beauty of the women. The day after
Smollett's party arrived, "we were visited," says he, "by
the English residing in the place, who always pay this mark
of respect to new comers. They consist of four or five fami-
lies, among whom I could pass the winter very agreeably,
if the state of my health and other reasons did not call me
away." ^ Sterne found the English families living in
"houses or apartments near one another for free inter-
course"; ^ and he remained several months.

In general, as we see, Montpellier suited even captious
English tourists. But the author of "The Gentleman's
Guide" complains: "This town has been long famous for
(what I, and many of my countrymen sadly experienced
it does not in the least degree possess) a salubrious air and
skilful physicians." *

We might fill many pages with specimen routes that
were followed by well-known tourists, but of course nobody
dreamt of going everywhere. One city deserves a word of
mention. Rheims, with its wonderful cathedral, its an-
cient abbey of Saint-Remi, its Roman triiunphal arch, its
well-built houses, and, moreover, its easy accessibility, drew
a good number of tourists on their way through northern
France to Italy. Gray writes in 1739 to Aston: "On
Monday next we set out for Rheims (where we expect to
be very dull) there to stay a Month or two, then we cross
Burgundy and Dauphiny, and so go to Avignon, Aix,
Marseilles, etc." ^

Last of all, we may note the route from Paris to Bordeaux
and thence to Bayonne and Madrid. "This," says Nugent,

250

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

"is one of the longest, most curious, and most convenient
tours a traveller can take thro' France; being a journey of
about one hundred and seventy leagues, thro' a fruitful,
populous country, where the roads are very good, and you
meet with the best of accommodation in the public inns.
It is the road generally used by those who go from Paris to
Madrid." ^

The post-route proceeded from Paris through Orleans,
Blois, Amboise, Tours, Poitiers, and thence through unim-
portant towns to Bordeaux. The stage-coach followed
much the same route (with the omission of Tours) as far as
Poitiers. From here it went through Saintes to Blaye.
From Blaye a vessel carried passengers up the Garonne to
Bordeaux. Tourists going on to Bayonne went by way of
Belin, Belloc, and Saint- Vincent.^

Tourists bound for Spain could also proceed by coach
from Bordeaux to Dax and thence by private carriage or by
water to Bayonne. The road to Madrid passed through
Saint-Jean de Luz, Iran, and Burgos.^ This route from
Paris to Madrid was "much the shortest way"; but the
longer route through Languedoc to Narbonne by Limoges,
Toulouse, Carcassonne, and Perpignan, or by Lyons and
Lower Languedoc through Nimes and Montpellier, was by
far the pleasanter.^

To some of these places we have already given a word of
comment. We can now pause for a mere glimpse of Poi-
tiers and Bordeaux. Poitiers, the capital of the old prov-
ince of Poitou, was frequently included in the grand tour
of France, and was visited on the way to or from Bordeaux.
In mere area Poitiers was surpassed only by Paris, but, as
Nugent remarks, "within the compass of the walls there
are a great many gardens, meadows, and corn-fields." ^
With its walls and towers and its multitude of ancient
churches and monasteries, the city constantly reminded the
tourist of the Middle Ages, as it does to-day. But there
was not much doing at Poitiers, and as a resort it was far
less poptilar than Dijon or Tours or Aix.

Bordeaux, the great Atlantic seaport of the south of

251

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

France, with its beautiful situation, its spacious harbor
filled with ships from all the seas, with its picturesque
streets, its ancient twin-towered cathedral, and its mani-
fold public institutions, had been famous for hundreds of
years and naturally received its share of the stream of
travel. Tourists found the older streets within the fortifi-
cations too narrow and ill-built, but they were enthusiastic
over the magnificence of the buildings in the newer quar-
ters. As is the case to-day, one had to make a special
effort to get to Bordeaux, but few cities in France gave
more satisfaction to those who made the long journey.

VII

One who ventured to travel in Spain was rather an ex-
plorer than an ordinary tourist. There were, indeed,
numerous English and French and Dutch merchants at the
chief Spanish seaports, and there were a few travelers in
Spain and even in Portugal ; * but the extreme difficulty of
Spanish travel prevented more than an occasional ven-
turesome sight-seer from attempting to extend his tour to
the Iberian Peninsula. Even in the middle of the eighteenth
century one had to submit to inconveniences hardly to be
paralleled to-day in the remoter portions of South America.
As late as 1776, Sherlock had an interview with Voltaire in
which Spain was mentioned. The octogenarian sage re-
marked: "It is a country of which we know no more than
of the most savage parts of Africa, and it is not worth the
trouble of being known. If a man would travel there, he
must carry his bed, etc. When he comes into a town, he
must go into one street to buy a bottle of wine, a piece of
a mule in another, he finds a table in a third, and he sups.
A French nobleman was passing through Pampeluna: he
sent out for a spit; there was only one in the town, and
that was borrowed for a wedding." ^

Voltaire's lively picture must not be taken to represent
the whole of Spain. "For some time back," says Botur-
goanne, "very tolerable inns are to be met with in Spain.

252

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

On the roads along which the coaches run, some are estab-
lished, provided with beds, linen, and even plate; and the
innkeepers are allowed to keep eatables for travellers. Be-
sides, on this road there are others which are pretty good,
particularly in principal towns; but every where else to the
present day one must expect inns entirely destitute of con-
veniences, and so disgusting, in short, as not to falsify the
accounts of travellers. ... But who will take a trip to
Spain merely to behold, here fine roads traversing arid
plains, as is the case in the two Castilles; there dreadful
roads in countries blest with fertility and industry, as
along the coasts of the kingdoms of Valentia and ckta-
lonia; to meet with towns deserted and in ruins, a court
not abounding with delights, few monuments, the arts but
in their cradle, a burning climate and the Inquisition?" »
^ The ordinary directions to tourists are sufficiently sugges-
tive of the state of Spanish civilization: "To travel com-
modiously in Spain, a man should have a good constitution,
two good servants, letters of credit for the principal cities,'
and a proper introduction to the best families, both of the
native inhabitants and of strangers settled in the country:
the language will be easily acquired."

For his journey the tourist was advised to purchase three
strong mules. "In his baggage he should have sheets, a
mattress, a blanket, and a quilt, a table-cloth, knives,
forks, and spoons, with a copper vessel sufficiently capa-
cious to boil his meat. This should be furnished with a
cover and a lock. Each of his servants should have a gun,
slung by the side of his mule." 2

"To travel as an economist in Spain, a man must be con-
tented to take his chance for conveyance, and either go by
the post wherever it is established, or join with officers
going to their various stations; to hire a coach, or quietly
resign himself to a calash, a calasine, a horse, a mule, or a
borrico. These last are the most convenient for the purpose
of crossing the country, or of wandering among the moun-
tains. If he is to traverse any district infested by banditti,
it will be safe for him to go by the common carriers; in

253

TOUR OF FRANCE AND SPAIN

which case he will be mounted on a good mule, and take
the place which would have been occupied by some bale of
goods." ^

The tourist was advised to begin his Spanish trip in
autumn, in order to avoid the burning heat of summer.
His route as commonly outlined was singularly like the
ordinary tourist round to-day, and included at the outset
Bayonne, Burgos, Valladolid, Segovia, Madrid. In the
cotirse of the winter he was to see Toledo, Cordova, Seville,
Cadiz, Gibraltar, Malaga, Granada, Carthagena, Murcia,
Alicante, Valencia, Barcelona. Touring in the spring to the
west he could go to Saragossa, Aranjuez, Salamanca, and
Leon, seeing various places in "Galicia, the Asturias, and
the provinces of Biscay." This was the plan followed by
Joseph Townsend, the geologist, in 1786, 1787.^

But the tour in Spain was at best a very modified form
of pleasure. The roads were neglected and often im-
passable except on horseback or muleback, the carriages
primitive, the inns ill-kept and filthy, the cities dilapidated
and sadly lacking in the most ordinary sanitation. In
the latter half of the eighteenth century improvement was
noticeable, particularly in the roads and the means of
public conveyance,' but even down to our own day a trav-
eler has had only to deviate a little from the beaten track
to encounter conditions that he can hardly believe possible
in Europe.

It is, then, needless for our purpose to follow the few
eighteenth-century travelers who ventured into Spain.
Our business is with the average tourist who kept to the
ordinary routes.

254

CHAPTER XI

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

Most people who flock to Switzerland as to a summer
paradise fail to consider how recently it has been included
as an essential part of an extended European tour; for,
with the exception of a half-dozen interesting cities, Switzer-
land had little to offer the eighteenth-century tourist be-
sides lakes, waterfalls, mountains, and glaciers. Pro-
tected behind its mountain barriers, Switzerland led a
tranquil and moderately prosperous existence. In a peculiar
sense it was isolated from the rest of Europe and played
small part in the councils of the great powers. Tourists
commonly devoted little time to Switzerland, and their atti-
tude was that of the world in general. As is well known, the
taste of travelers before the middle of the eighteenth century
did not much incline toward rough and precipitous scenery,^
but toward the softer beauties of the verdant plain, the
quiet lake, and the mossy dell. A grazing flock of sheep, a
piping shepherd, an ivy-grown ruin, presented a picture
that seemed ideal. Poets now and then bestowed perfunc-
tory descriptive epithets upon mountains, but in general
sought more inviting themes. As for the English tourists
of the first half of the eighteenth century, trained as they
were to admire debased neo-classic architecture and artifi-
cial ruins and cascades, and trees trimmed into the shape
of peacocks and birds of paradise, they were unlikely to go
far out of their way for the sake of viewing the rugged peaks
and the frightful chasms of the Alps,^ but they hastened on
to the cities in which they found delight. The ecstasies of
Ruskin over the beauty and grandeur of mountain scenery
would have been intelligible to few of the contemporaries of
Addison and Swift and Pope.^ The poet Gray was, indeed,

255

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

one of the early admirers of rough mountain scenery, and
this, too, notwithstanding his timid disposition. But in
accord with eighteenth-century conventions tourists in the
presence of mountains ordinarily exhibited terror, or at all
events showed no liking for them. Mountains'were gloomy,
frowning, oppressive, and a disfigurement of the landscape.
The seventeenth-century Misson finds it "matter enough of
astonishment, that any one should venture himself among
the cliffs and precipices of such dismal mountains." ^ This
feeling was centuries old and was first overcome in the
eighteenth century itself. At a safe distance a traveler
might now and then appreciate even a mountain. Misson
himself remarks: "There cannot be a more pleasant road
than that between Geneva and Lausanne. . . . We rarely
lost sight of the lake ; and sometimes on the other side piles
of lofty and forked mountains, always glittering with im-
memorial snow, which gives to the prospect a very pleasing
variety." ^

His contemporary. Dr. Northleigh, was not so courageous :
"We were no sooner passed the bridge of Pontbeauvoisin,
but we were sensible of the difference of the country; for
whereas we had left behind us the fertile plains of Dau-
phiny, the other side of the banks of the same river repre-
sented to our view the frightful Alps, the precipices whereof
would have been more dreadful to us, had not the many
vineyards we found on the first ascent taken off a great part
of the horror we had conceived at the first sight of them." ^

Even late in the eighteenth century the dread of the
mountains survived: "Far off lay the mountains of Switz-
erland, forming a most awful and tremendous amphi-
theatre. When first I turned my glass upon them, if I may
so express myself, and brought their terrors closer to my
eye, I started with affright! My friend the curate perceiv-
ing my amazement, said to me. Ah! Monsieur I' Anglais,
vous voyez Id de belles horreurs! And in fact they were so.
. . . Perhaps on approaching, and having them contin-
ually in view, they would not appear so dreadful as at first ;
but even yet at so great a distance, I could not behold them

256

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

through a glass without terror; and even was pleased that
I was distant from them." ^

In general, the estimate of scenery is that of Keysler,
in commenting on the road from Lucca to Pistoia: "The
first five miles are over a most charming plain. . . .
There cannot be a finer scene than the plain country
hereabouts." ^ Entirely in harmony is Bromley's ad-
miration for the plain of Lombardy: "I never travelled
a more pleasant road than this thro' Lombardy from
Milan hither, the country all flat and plain, and exceeding
rich." 3

That the ordinary English tourist had small admira-
tion for the Alps cannot, then, be especially counted
against him. He was but conforming to the spirit of his
age, which, with Pope, felt that "the proper study of
mankind is man." Moreover, as Palgrave well remarks:
"There was nothing of charm, no romance, in the pain-
fulness with which mountain regions were traversed two
hundred years since and later; nor could the discomforts
of the road attune a traveller's mind to the contempla-
tion of the sublime. Hence Alpine scenery, peaks and
passes, left Addison with no feeling but of horror and
repugnance, and only wakened even Gray himself to a
dawning sense of their latent poetry." ^ Accordingly,
until the eighteenth century was far spent, the Alps,
except as they could be viewed from a distance, were
to most Englishmen an entirely undiscovered country.^
Few tourists, in fact, wotdd have known what to do with
their time if they had gone to the mountains. They hardly
imagined that rational men would climb a mountain
unless compelled to do so. Any one foolish enough to
risk his life in scaling a difficult peak would have run the
further risk of having his sanity called in question by stay-
at-home people.^

Moreover, even if tourists had cared to visit the moun-
tains, they would have had to put up with the roughest
accommodations and to fare like the peasants. Tourist
hotels in places like Zermatt or the Rhone Glacier, now

257

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

among the most popular resorts in Switzerland, were
not dreamed of. At Zermatt, indeed, there was no hotel
until 1839.* Coxe records at the Grimsel Pass on a day
in August: "Last night I lay in the hayloft, without any
covering : I declare my blood has scarcely recovered its cir-
culation." 2 On the Col di Tenda, as late as 1792, we are
told: "The inn here is a crazy hovel, containing scarcely
one whole window, and no sitting room, except that which
serves in common for postillions, porters, gentlemen,
poultry, and hogs." ' Even as late as 1847 those who
crossed the Simplon were warned in a popular guide-book:
"This village (Simplon) is the most miserable and most
wretched cluster of wretched hovels to be met with be-
tween Ostend and Naples. The inn (post-house) is dear
and dirty; damp sheets, hard bread, hard water, hard
old hens, and of course hard eggs; this is what the Red
Mask* calls 'good accommodation.'"''^

Most of the mountain inns ^ remained bad notwith-
standing the constantly increasing stream of travel into
Italy. But at least a part of the insufficient accommo-
dation Vv'as due to the irregularity of the arrival of guests.
"At one of the inns," says Sharp, "I asked the servant
maid if they were not often a long time without seeing
company? 'Yes,' said she, 'sometimes, in the winter,
we are three or four days without seeing a soul, and then
they come in such crowds that we can hardly provide
beds for them.'"' Moreover, the charges were often
extortionate. Keysler advises the traveler about to
cross Mont Cenis: "It is the more necessary here to in-
clude lodging and entertainment, as by that means the
extravagant impositions of the inn-keepers are prevented,
as the postilions know the prices of wines, and all kinds
of eatables." ^

Naturally enough, then, in view of all these obstacles,
the account of eighteenth-century mountaineering for
pleasure in Switzerland does not make a long story.
During the greater part of the century tourists on their
way to or from Italy regarded the high mountains as

258

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

something to be avoided if possible, and in crossing the
Alps they did so with all expedition. Timid travelers did
not venture them at all, but coasted along the Riviera
from Marseilles or Toulon to Genoa and thence to Spezia
or Leghorn.

In the seventeenth century the occasional tourists
who visited Switzerland kept for the most part to the
towns, and this continued to be the rule until the last
quarter of the eighteenth century. Gilbert Burnet in
1686 wrote interestingly of the cities and of the coun-
try as a whole,^ but he had little to say of the districts
that most attract the modern tourist.

The eighteenth-century return to nature brought with
it a new insight into the beauty of wild mountain scenery.
Albrecht von Haller's poem on "The Alps" was a reve-
lation to the world and a forerunner of all the nineteenth-
century poetic rapture over mountains. Yet for three
quarters of a century after Burnet wrote, Switzerland
occupied little of the time of tourists except as they saw
it incidentally on their way to other parts of Europe.
In the four volumes of Nugent 's "Grand Tour" — the
successor of Misson's famous book — very few pages
are devoted to Switzerland, though Nugent professes
to give a complete guide to all that is best worth seeing
on the Continent.

A generation later than Nugent's book, Archdeacon
Coxe's admirable account of Switzerland marks the
dawn of a new era in Swiss travel. He takes a genuine
delight in the contemplation of the grandeur of the moun-
tains, and has the point of view of the modern tourist.
In traversing the Furca Pass he observes: "I frequently
quit my party, and either go on before or loiter behind,
that I may enjoy uninterrupted, and with a sort of mel-
ancholy pleasure, these sublime exhibitions of Nature
in her most awful and tremendous forms. "^ Throughout
his book Coxe shows real appreciation of the scenery of
the Alps, though his praise is somewhat formal and heavy.
He is at his best in his account of the Rhine Fall: "A

259

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

scaffolding is erected in the very spray of this tremendous
cataract and upon the most sublime point of view; the sea
of foam rushing down; the continual cloud of spray scat-
tered to a great distance, and to a considerable height;
in short the magnificence of the whole scenery far sur-
passed my most sanguine expectations, and exceeds all
description." ^

In the same spirit of enthusiasm Dr. Moore writes of
his Swiss tour, "in which a greater variety of sublime and
interesting objects offer themselves to the contempla-
tion of the traveller than can be found in any other part
of the globe of the same extent."^ And later he adds:
"No country in the world can be more agreeable to travv
ellers during the summer than Switzerland: For besides
the commodious roads and comfortable inns, some of
the most beautiful objects of nature, woods, mountains,
lakes intermingled with fertile fields, vineyards, and
scenes of the most perfect cultivation, are here presented
to the eye in greater variety, and on a larger scale, than
in any other country." ^

In company with the Duke of Hamilton and others.
Dr. Moore went up on the glaciers by Chamonix, merely
for the sake of the scenery.^ Commonplace as this ex-
ploit may now appear, it was of marked significance
as indicating the changing attitude toward mountains
before 1780. Englishmen are commonly credited with
taking in new ideas slowly. But when they really grasp
a new conception they adopt it very thoroughly. So it
was with the conquest of Switzerland by the ever-increas-
ing army of English tourists who came to enjoy the moun-
tains and not to shudder at them. The closing years
of the eighteenth century and the opening years of the
nineteenth witnessed the final triumph over the preju-
dice against mountain scenery, and, in Leslie Stephen's
happy phrase, Switzerland became "the playground of
Europe." ^

In 18 18, the serious lack of an English guide-book to
the country was supplied by Daniel Wall's English ver-

260

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

sion of Ebel's pioneer work.'under the title, "The Travel-
ler's Guide through Switzerland "; i and since that day
the stream of English tourists has been unfailing.

But although Englishmen, Hke other tourists, avoided
the mountains, they were often seen in Swiss cities,
particularly during the second half of the eighteenth
century. Bern was noted for its social life and its cor-
diality to strangers, and Geneva enjoyed an exceptional
reputation as a safe place to send a young man with his
tutor; while Basel, Zurich, Lucerne, Lausanne, each had
attractions sufficient to hold the passing tourist for a more
or less protracted stay.^ The Hfe in these cities was com-
mended as simple and wholesome. One had excellent
opportunities for learning French by being received as
a member of a cultured family, and could easily share in
the pleasures of a society that lacked the sophistication
and dangerous allurements of the fashionable assemblies
of France and Italy. In 1785, social gatherings at Bern,
we are told, "begin about four or five in the afternoon
and continue till eight, when the parties usually retire
to their respective houses." ^ Zurich suffered no wild
extravagance. As late as 1776, we read: "Among their
sumptuary laws, the use of a carriage in the town is pro-
hibited to all sorts of persons except strangers; and it
is almost inconceivable that, in a place so commercial
and wealthy, luxury should so Httle prevail." * At Basel
one could, indeed, keep a coach, but "no citizen or in-
habitant" was "allowed to have a servant behind his car-
riage." 5 Similar regulations of one's dress and deportment
prevailed in many other parts of Switzerland. Games of
chance in particular were under the ban of the law.

Along with Bern, Geneva won the special favor of
English tourists,^ and impressed them with its popula-
tion of twenty-four thousand inhabitants,— the largest
in Switzerland. Tourists were advised that they could
"not choose a more agreeable place of repose, after the
various toils of a fatiguing voyage"; ^ and this reputation
continued throughout the eighteenth century. "The

261

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

goodness of the air, the mildness of the government, and
the plenty of all things, together with the conversation
of the inhabitants, who are sprightly and polite, make
this a most agreeable city to live in; insomuch that it
is stiled the court of the Alps." ' The inhabitants honored
Sunday " with the most respectful decorum during the
hours of divine service; but as soon as that" was "over,
all the usual amusements" commenced. ^ People of
wealth and leisure were fond of going for social gather-
ings a little distance outside the city. The summons
to return to their homes before it should be too late to
pass through the gates strikingly indicates the primi-
tive conditions still surviving late in the eighteenth cen-
tury. "They generally continue these circles till the
dusk of the evening and the sound of the drum from
the ramparts call them to the town; and at that time the
gates are shut, after which no person can enter or go out,
the officer of the guard not having the power to open
them without an order from the Syndics, which is not to
be obtained but on some great emergency." ^

Without question all these cities proved interesting to
Englishmen. In general, however, as we have observed,
the eighteenth-century tourist was bent upon visiting
other countries than Switzerland. The Swiss cities were
not indispensable to the success of his tour, and he did
not make his long journey for the sake of seeing moun-
tains, though in going through the great passes on his way
to Italy he could not avoid seeing some notable scenery.
In the lowlands the roads were in many cases excellent;
in the higher regions of the Alps they left much to be
desired. Only the Col di Tenda (1778), the Brenner
(1772), and the Arlberg (1786) were passable for carriages.*
But such as they were, the routes over the Saint-Gott-
hard, the Great Saint-Bernard, the Simplon,|Mont Gcnevre,
Mont Cenis, and other passes were much used, though
the crossing of the mountains caused most travelers
some perturbation.

To traverse these roads, says Keysler, "There is scarce

262

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

any other way . . . than in post-chaises which will
hold two persons, with a covering over head, and room for
two trunks behind : they have but two wheels, and one of
the two horses runs within the shafts, and bears the
stress of the burden. . . . The rugged rocks and narrow
roads, and the short turnings along the mountains, render
it extremely difficult for four-wheeled carriages to travel
through Savoy." ^ Where the road was impassable for
wheeled vehicles, they were taken to pieces and carried
over on mulcback. The novel experience made a deep
impression upon travelers. Two or three typical descrip-
tions will enable us to get the point of view of the earlier
tourists far better than any comment of our own. The
first is Evelyn's account of his passage of the Simplon
in 1646, going over from Italy.

"The next morning, we mounted again through strange,
horrid, and fearful crags and tracts, abounding in pine-
trees, and only inhabited by bears, wolves, and wild
goats; nor coiild we anywhere see above a pistol-shot
before us, the horizon being terminated with rocks and
mountains, whose tops, covered with snow, seemed to
touch the skies, and in many places pierced the clouds.
Some of these vast mountains were but one entire stone,
betwixt whose clefts now and then precipitated great
cataracts of melted snow, and other waters, which made
a terrible roaring, echoing from the rocks and cavities;
and these waters in some places breaking in the fall,
wet us as if we had passed through a mist, so that we
could neither see nor hear one another, but trusting
to our honest mules, we jogged on our way. The narrow
bridges, in some places made only by felling huge fir-trees,
and laying them athwart from mountain to mountain,
over cataracts of stupendous depth, are very dangerous,
and so are the passages and edges made by cutting away
the main rock; others in steps; and in some places we
pass between mountains that have been broken and fallen
on one another; which is very terrible, and one had need
of a sure foot and steady head to climb some of these preci-

263

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

pices, besides that they are harbours for bears and wolves,
who have sometimes assaulted travellers. In these straits,
we frequently alighted, now freezing in the snow, and anon
frying by the reverberation of the sun against the cliffs
as we descend lower, when we meet now and then a few
miserable cottages so built upon the declining of the rocks,
as one would expect their sliding down." ^

Smollett went over the Col di Tenda in March, 1765;
and his experience, as will be seen, does not materially
differ from that of travelers crossing Mont Cenis and other
high mountains. He started at three in the morning and at
four began the ascent. It was, he says, "by far the highest
mountain in the whole journey: it was now quite covered
with snow, which at the top of it was near twenty feet thick.
Half way up, there are quarters for a detachment of sol-
diers, posted here to prevent smuggling, and an inn called
La Ca, which in the language of the country signifies the
house. At this place, we hired six men to assist us in ascend-
ing the mountain, each of them provided with a kind of
hough to break the ice, and make a sort of steps for the
miiles. When we were near the top, however, we were
obliged to alight, and climb the mountain supported each
by two of those men, called coiilants, who walk upon the
snow with great firmness and security. We were followed
by the mules, and though they are very sure-footed animals,
and were frost-shod for the occasion, they stumbled and
fell very often ; the ice being so hard that the sharp-headed
nails in their shoes could not penetrate." ^ On the other
side the travelers slid down on a kind of sledge. "At Coni
we found the countess C — from Nice, who had made the
same journey in a chair, carried by porters. This is no
other than a common elbow-chair of wood, with a straw
bottom, covered above with a waxed cloth, to protect the
traveller from the rain or snow, and provided with a foot-
board upon which the feet rest. It is carried like a sedan-
chair; and for this purpose six or eight porters are employed
at the rate of three or four livres a head per day, according
to the season, allowing three days for their return. Of

264

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

these six men, two are between the poles carrying like com-
mon chairmen, and each of these supported by the other
two, one at each hand; but as those in the middle sustain
the greatest burthen, they are relieved by the others in a
regular rotation. In descending the mountain, they carry
the poles on their shoulders, and, in that case, four men are
employed, one at each end." ^

The ordinary pass for travelers coming through France
was that leading over Mont Cenis and down to Turin ; ^
and hence this mountain appears frequently in the ac-
counts of tourists. Gray crossed it with Horace Walpole
in the autumn of 1739, taking six days for the passage.
They were, as Gray says, "as well armed as possible
against the cold with muffs, hoods, and masks of beaver,
fur boots, and bear skins"; ^ and such was the common
equipment of well-to-do tourists for a passage of the high
mountains.^

One of the most detailed and interesting accounts of the
crossing of Mont Cenis is Sharp's, though there are so many
that selection is difficult: ^ "The passage into Italy is com-
posed of a very steep ascent, almost three miles high; then
of a plain, nearly flat, about five or six miles long; and,
lastly, of a descent, about six miles in length. . . . Both
going and returning, when you arrive at the foot of the hill,
your coach, or chaise, is taken to pieces and carried upon
mules to the other side, and you yourself are transported by
two men, on a common straw chair,^ without any feet to it,
fixed upon two poles, like a sedan chair, with a swinging-
foot-board to prop up your feet; but, though it be the work
of two men only to carry you, six, and sometimes eight,
attend, in order to relieve one another. The whole way
that you ride in this manner being fourteen or fifteen miles,
when the person carried is corpulent, it is necessary to
employ ten porters." '

The cool-headed Arthur Young supplements some of
this detail: "To those who, from reading are full of expec-
tation of something very sublime, it is almost as great a de-
lusion as to be met with in the regions of romance : if trav-

265

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

ellers are to be believed, the descent rammassant on the
snow, is made with the velocity of a flash of lightning; I
was not fortunate enough to meet with any thing so wonder-
ful. At the grand croix we seated ourselves in machines
of four sticks, dignified with the name of traineau; a mule
draws it, and a conductor, who walks between the machine
and the animal, serves chiefly to kick the snow into the face
of the rider. When arrived at the precipice, which leads
down to Lanebourg [Lans-le-bourg], the mule is dismissed,
and the rammassang [sic] begins. The weight of two persons,
the guide seating himself in the front, and directing it with
his heels in the snow, is sufficient to give it motion. For
most of the way he is content to follow very humbly the
path of the mules, but now and then crosses to escape a
double, and in such spots the motion is rapid enough, for a
few seconds, to be agreeable ; they might very easily shorten
the line one half, and by that means gratify the English
U^ith the velocity they admire so much." ^

Of the danger involved in this passage Baretti also makes
light: "And a propos of mount Cenis, let no one be fright-
ened by the dismal accounts, so frequent in the books of
travel-writers, of the bad road over dangerous precipices
through Savoy or the Apennines. These dangerous preci-
pices exist no where, but in the imagination of the timorous;
for wherever there is any dubious pass, the Italian postilions
have common sense enough not to venture their necks along
with those of their passengers, but they desire them to
alight and assist in conquering, the difficulty, if there are
no people of the country at hand." ^

The passage of the Alps was never easy, and, especially
in winter, was doubtless now and then sufficiently terrify-
ing to a novice who was expecting to be frightened,^ but
the imagination of the eighteenth century magnified the
difficulty and the danger until nearly every traveler who
had accomplished the feat fancied himself more or less of a
hero — in spite of the fact that the crossing was an every-
day affair for the hardy Swiss porters.

But although the danger was exaggerated by inexperi-

266

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

enced tourists with weak nerves, the difficulty need not be
unduly minimized. The paths were narrow and steep, cov-
ered with ice and snow in winter, and occasionally exposed
to avalanches. The ordinary traveler may be pardoned for
showing some apprehension when an unimaginative maker
of guide-books like Nugent details for the prospective
tourist the dangers of "the frightfiil mountain called S.
Godard. This mountain is two miles high, and very dan-
gerous in winter, because of the great heaps of snow and
stones, which the violence of the winds rolls down the
precipices. But the most hazardous part is the bridge on
the Russ, called the bridge of hell, from the horrid noise
the water makes as it tumbles from the rocks, and from the
slipperiness of the bridge, which renders it difficult even
to foot passengers, who are obliged to creep on all-fours,
lest the fury of the winds should drive them down the
rocks." 1

If in our day the Alps had to be traversed on the old
narrow roads by the old means of conveyance, they would
even yet be dreaded. In Smollett's opinion, "Certainly
no person who travels to Italy from England, Holland,
France, or Spain, would make a troublesome circuit to pass
the Alps by the way of Savoy and Piedmont, if he could
have the convenience of going past by the way of Aix,
Antibes, and Nice, along the side of the Mediterranean,
and through the Riviera of Genoa, which from the sea
affords the most agreeable and amazing prospect I ever
beheld." «

After the Alps, the Apennines were no great obstacle to
tourists, though the slow toiling up the rough, steep roads
was a tiresome experience. Every traveler from Bologna
to Florence had to traverse this mountain barrier, which
required a three days* journey.^ Lady Mary Wortley Mon-
tagu ^ called it " a dreadful passage." Yet on the whole the
Apennines were suited to eighteenth-century taste much
better than the Alps, and, in the opinion of the Earl of
Carlisle, "though not so wonderful . . . much more
beautiful, being covered with a great quantity of timber,

267

SWITZERLAND AND THE MOUNTAINS

and the cottages in the most romantic situations in a very
deHghtful manner." *

The foregoing brief survey by no means includes all that
might be said on the mountain experiences of eighteenth-
century tourists; but the other mountain districts in the
regions traversed on the grand tour call for no special com-
ment, since they were in general merely difficult rather
than dangerous.

268

CHAPTER XII

ITALY

In the eighteenth century the shortest tour abroad was
a notable experience, and a journey to Italy an achievement
to be boasted of for the remainder of one's life. Nothing,
indeed, is more striking than the contrast between the
weakness and poverty of the country as a whole and the
fascination that it exerted upon all Europe. The exquisite
landscapes, the music, the art, the architecture, the ruins
surviving from the great past, gave Italy a unique place.
Pilgrims and scholars and pleasure-seekers had made their
way there for centuries.^ The very unlikeness of Italy to
England in almost every particular was an added attrac-
tion: and in the eighteenth century Englishmen flocked
there in greater numbers than ever before, for the sojourn
in Italy was "considered as the finishing part of a polite
education." ^

But the interest of the ordinary tourist was mainly that
of curiosity. The political power of Italy was shattered
into fragments and the country had ceased to be the intel-
lectual leader of Europe, as it had been in the fifteenth and
early sixteenth centuries. Italy now drew attention more
as the picturesque survivor of a splendid past than as an
active participant in anything demanding initiative and
strenuous endeavor. To the student making the grand tour
Italy was the most interesting museum in the world, and
though a land from which the efficient life had largely
departed, it remained still notable because of the part it
had played in history.

To us of to-day eighteenth-century Italy seems in many
particulars like something fantastical and unreal, so differ-

269

ITALY

ent is it from the Italy we know, penetrated as it now is
in remote recesses by the railway, the motor-car, or the
bicycle. Within the past forty years, through the wonder-
ful transformations wrought by electricity and modern
machinery, Italy has made infinitely more progress than
in the whole course of the seventeenth and eighteenth cen-
turies. But even yet, in out-of-the-way districts, the
traveler finds many of the conditions of a century or two
ago. In a hundred towns of Italy there are squares and
streets substantially unchanged since the eighteenth-
century tourist looked upon them. And as for pictures and
statues, a good proportion of those that are to-day most
famous are enumerated in the guide-books of Misson and
Nugent and De La Lande. But one now misses the brightly
colored costumes of the olden time, the powdered wigs, the
high headdresses of fine ladies, the gaudy gilded chariots,
the sedan chairs. For us the eighteenth century can never
live again.

In the eighteenth century degeneracy was writ large
over most of the country and was a subject of comment in
every tourist's account of his travels. One wearies a little
of the insistence of travelers in dwelling on this theme, but
the fact was so forced upon their attention at every turn
that they could not escape it. The decline of Italy from the
proud position it had held in the fifteenth and early sixteenth
centuries had long been in progress. Even at the end of the
sixteenth century, "Italy had retrograded, crushed by
foreign oppression. . . . Excepting Venice, which was
even then in its decline, the other cities of Italy retained
scarce a shadow of their former power. Their earlier
commercial supremacy was a thing of the past." ^ Says
a writer in 1743: "The Italians are so intirely taken up
with what the People and Country were seventeen hun-
dred Years ago, that they neglect the present Condition of
both. Their Cities are now thin of Inhabitants, their soil
barren and uncultivated, and themselves a pusillanimous,
enervate, lazy people." ^

Not unnaturally, there grew up, in process of time, a

270

ITALY

widespread and exaggerated conception of Italy as a land of
faded splendor with its glory all in the past, and with a
present of poverty and dirt and lawlessness, while every-
where the bandit followed his desperate trade. This is the
conception which appears in Mrs. Radcliffe's romances and
which is based wholly upon tales picked up from travelers
and her reading of books of travel. Justified as this view
in some degree was, it took account of none but surface
facts.

In striking contrast with this common estimate of Italy as
a land hopelessly sunken in poverty and weakness is the
enthusiasm with which travelers kindle at the thought of
the delights to be found there. Eighteenth-century tour-
ists of the most varied type are at one in their praise of this
garden of Europe. The veteran traveler Misson, summing
up a wide experience, says: "I have observed that those
who speak of Italy are usually full of prejudices in favor
of that fine country. Most young travellers being persuaded
that they shall find there an infinite number of surprising
rarities, go thither with a resolution to admire every thing
they meet." ^

In Addison's preface to his "Remarks on Italy," he ob-
serves: "There is certainly no place in the world where a
man may travel with greater pleasure and advantage than
in Italy. One finds something more particular in the face
of the country, and more astonishing in the works of nature,
than can be met with in any other part of Europe."

Nugent echoes Addison's opinion in almost the same
words, and says that "Italy, for fine cities, surpasses all the
rest of Europe." ^ Northall, in the preface to his "Travels
through Italy," remarks upon the popularity of the Italian
tour: "What Egypt was to the ancients, Italy is to the
moderns. . . . Italy, thus enriched by nature and adorned
by art, is therefore justly esteemed the most agreeable and
most useful part of Europe to a lover of antiquity, and the
polite arts and sciences ; nor is it strange that it should bs
much frequented by foreigners of taste in this learned and
refined age."^ And Eustace, in the same tone of enthu-

271

ITALY

siasm, says: "No country furnishes a greater number of
ideas, or inspires so many generous and exalting sentiments.
To have visited it at any period, may be ranked among the
minor blessings of life, and is one of the means of mental
improvement." ^

English moralists now and then remarked with scorn
upon the low moral tone of Italy, but they had little influ-
ence in diverting the stream of travel into other channels.

As a rule the tourist wasted little time upon the coun-
try districts, which in general were thinly inhabited and
destitute of the comforts of life. Italy was in a peculiar sense
a land of cities. The Roman type of civilization magnified
the importance of the city at the expense of the country;
and the conditions of life in the Middle Ages had con-
tinued many ancient traditions, which, even in the eight-
eenth century, were by no means extinct. "In England
and France," says Nugent, " 'tis customary for the nobility
and gentry to spend part of their time in the country; but
'tis not so in Italy, for here most people of distinction live
in the cities, out of which there are very few castles or
noblemen's seats to be seen, especially in comparison to
what we observe in France and England." ^

Of the popularity of various Italian cities we have a long
succession of testimonials from English tourists. The
special favorites were Turin, Milan, Venice, Bologna,
Florence, Rome, and Naples. But there were also a good
number of others that in their measure were notably
popular. All in all, apart from the marked eighteenth-cen-
tury neglect of mountain regions and the patronizing and
often contemptvious attitude toward places the main inter-
est of which was medieval, there was not much in the
eighteenth-century round that tourists in our day have
greatly modified, even though they travel by rail rather
than by the old-fashioned carriage. And if we were to
make a list of the fifty places in Italy now most deserving
attention, we should find a good proportion of them in the
ordinary routes of the eighteenth-century tourist.

272

ITALY

II

A glance at the map of Italy and at the principal thor-
oughfares traversing the peninsula is sufficient to show
that, as in France, a few chief cities largely determined
the route of the tourist. On the other hand, some cities,
though almost inevitably included in the itinerary, were
regarded merely as necessary halting-places on the way.
Still others, interesting in themselves, though not easily
accessible, were left in their lonely isolation and rarely
if ever visited. To see any town that involved even a
slight detour was, for one who had a fixed agreement
with a vetturino, commonly impracticable, to say nothing
of the unavoidable hardships to be encountered in out-
of-the-way places. Of some of the cities most commonly
visited we must take account, though at best we can
find space for but a few. '

But before giving attention to the cities we must con-
sider for a moment the routes by which they were com-
monly reached. And even before outlining the routes
we must take account of the disposition of the tourist
himself. There were a few beaten tracks which tourists
followed with remarkable fidelity. "No English traveller
that ever I heard," says Baretti, "ever went a step out
of those roads, which from the foot of the Alps lead straight
to our most famed cities. None of them ever will deign
to visit those places whose names are not in every body's
mouth. They travel to see things, not men. Indeed
they cannot help crossing both the Alps and the Apen-
nines in two or three parts; but always do it in such
haste, that their inhabitants are as much known to
them as those of the Arimaspian cliffs. Our Mountain-
eers, secluded in a manner from the rest of the world,
never awake their curiosity." He cites a small region
north of Vicenza, thought by some to be peopled by
those Cimbri whom Marius defeated. "Yet they re-
main perfectly unexplored by those very Britons who
make it a point to spend a part of their income and

273

ITALY

consecrate a part of their life to the visitation of dis-
tant regions and to the knowledge of foreign customs
and manners. Their poor curiosity will hardly extend
farther than pictures and statues, or carnival festivities
and holy-week ceremonies; nor could any of them be
forced half a mile out of the most beaten track by my
frequent expostulations. What a pity that so many young
gentlemen of good parts, and never cramped for want
of money, should all be so perverse on this particular." ^

One of Walpole's lively letters to West in 1739 expresses
with exactness the spirit of the ordinary English tourist
in Italy: "Dear West, I protest against having seen
anything but what all the world has seen; nay, I have
not seen half that, not some of the most common things;
not so much as a miracle. Well, but you don't expect
it, do you? Except pictures and statues, we are not
very fond of sights; don't go a staring after crooked towers
and conundrum staircases." ^

Englishmen were, indeed, commonly credited with
marked individuality and independence of character.
But on their travels they were, as a rule, less bent upon
adding to the general stock of knowledge than upon
checking off in a catalogue the things that other tourists
had seen. As long as a region was not in the ordinary
itinerary, they cheerfully neglected it, but when it had been
enough talked about to be put in the list of things that
must be seen, they flocked thither and made the fortune
of the district. As Hazlitt remarks with some annoy-
ance: "The English abroad turn out of their way to see
every pettifogging, huckstering object that they could
see better at home." ^

But there were large tracts of the country rarely if ever
visited by the tourist and hardly accessible even if he
had the desire to see them. Nearly half of Italy was
thus neglected. The whole of the great region below a
line drawn from coast to coast through Rome and Loretto
was practically unknown, with the exception of the stretch
between Rome and Naples and a circle of perhaps fifty

274

ITALY

miles about Naples. With this entire region Misson
troubles himself very little; "that country," he says, in
his famous "New Voyage to Italy,"' "being almost im-
practicable and very little frequented, because of the
bad inns, in which you find nothing at all to eat; those
people being accustomed to provide the strangers with
fire and utensils only; an experience that I have made
at Salerne." Thus neglected, much of the inland region
south and east of Naples was almost as unknown as South
America. Indeed, to this day the greater part of Italy
that Misson left out of account is little frequented by tour-
ists. They may run down by rail to Brindisi on their
way to the East, or to Reggio on their way to Sicily, but
they usually pass through as one might through a desert.

There is no lovelier part of Europe than Sicily, yet in
the eighteenth century only an occasional tourist found
his way thither. Those who went had to face much dis-
comfort as soon as they left the cities on the coast and
attempted to go across country. The roads were mere
trails, the inns extremely primitive or altogether lacking,
and the danger from brigands by no means imaginary.
Breval says in 1723: "Sicily is a ground very few Eng-
lishmen have trod before me as observers." ^ Nor did many
English hasten to tread it after him. Indeed, if we count
up the English travelers of any note who went about the
island in the eighteenth century, we enumerate a very
small company.^

We need not, therefore, pause to comment upon Pal-
ermo, with its exquisite survivals of the medieval period,
notably that architectural gem, the Capella Palatina;
upon Monreale, with its vast expanse of medieval mosaics ;
upon Segesta, with its marvelously preserved Greek
temple; upon Selinunte, with its stupendous temple ruins;
upon Girgenti, with its wonderful group of ancient temples;
upon Syracuse, with its catacombs, its vast, rock-hewn
ancient citadel, its Greek theatre, its historic quarries,
and its charming excursions; upon Taormina, perched
on its rocky nest above the blue straits and facing the

27s

ITALY

towering mass of snow-covered ^tna. Surely, nothing
but conditions known to be almost unendurable could
have kept tourists away from such a natural paradise
as Sicily.

But there were other interesting regions of Italy, far
more accessible, that shared the same neglect,^ and which
were viewed, if at all, with entire lack of intelligent ap-
preciation. Baretti is again a witness: "I have seldom
or never met in the books of English travellers with any
account, even short and imperfect, of those parts of north-
ern and western Italy, which are, one may say, but a
stone's throw from the great road of Rome. These gentle-
men will tell you of Turin, Milan, Brescia, Venice, and
some other towns on that side, that they are very well
built towns, very populous, and very rich; but they never
tell by what means they are, and have been, maintained
for so long a space of time in the state they describe them." ^

To the modem tourist there are few more attractive
hill towns than Perugia. In the middle of the eighteenth
century it counted about sixteen thousand inhabitants,
not all, it must be confessed, of the best reputation.^
Travelers taking the middle route to Rome often found
it convenient to spend a night there; and in their ac-
counts they enumerate some of the sights, but they dis-
play no understanding of the peculiar charm of the place.
Smollett's account is amusingly vague. Whether, in-
deed, he troubled himself to see what he reports is not
entirely clear. But at all events, to the beauty of the
situation of this old Etruscan city, with its walls and
gates, and the magnificent views in every direction,
he seems bHnd: "There being no relays at the post, we
were obliged to stay the whole day and night at Perugia,
which is a considerable city, built upon the acclivity of a
hill, adorned with some elegant fountains, and several
handsome churches, containing some valuable pictures
by Guido, Raphael, and his master Pietro Perugino,
who was a native of this place." ^

Knowing as we do the usual conditions of travel in

276

ITALY

Italy, even on the beaten thoroughfares, and the usual
indifference of tourists to places outside the conven-
tional round, we can easily see why Nugent puts a num-
ber of extremely interesting towns such as Volterra,
Arezzo, Chiusi, Montepulciano, Cortona, Orvieto, into
a list of "by-places," to be seen, if convenient, in going
by way of Bologna and Florence to Rome.^ A similar
list of places that he names on the route from Venice to
Rome by way of Ancona and Loretto includes San Marino,
visited from Rimini; Urbino, visited from Pesaro; Assisi,'
Perugia, Gubbio, Fabriano.^

We need hardly remark that tourists in Italy in the
period we are considering commonly avoided the moun-
tains and made comparatively little of the lakes, though
the Borromean Islands, with their artificial gardens,
frequently drew travelers to Lake Maggiore. The ex-
quisite Monte di Brianza, terminating in the triangle
between the two arms of Lake Como, was, as Baretti ob-
served, perhaps "the most delightful province in all Italy,
and yet very seldom visited by English travellers." »
It is a striking fact that De La Lande's account of Italy,
filling eight volumes, merely gives the names of the lakes *
without detail.^

As already remarked elsewhere, the taste for wild
mountain scenery was still in its infancy a century and
a half ago; and the Middle Ages and their works were
despised as barbarous. Moreover, to most tourists the
ordinary routes offered more than they could well see
in the time at their disposal. None but the seasoned
traveler could expect to profit by independent explora-
tion, and comparatively few English tourists had the
slightest desire to deviate from the conventional lines.
And why, after all, should a gay young fellow exile himself
in remote provincial towns, far from his English associates?
His acquaintance with the language and the literature was
practically nothing. He cared little for art, nothing for
antiquity, except as a source of curiosities for his museum,
and even on the main routes he was vexed with the unavoid-

277

ITALY

able annoyances of the journey and the unlikeness of the
inns to those of England.

The facts already presented sufficiently explain, and
in some measure justify, the tourist's preference for the
conventional routes affording at least a moderate de-
gree of comfort. These routes we find outlined in the
old guide-books/ and also in the narratives of travelers.
There is no lack of useful suggestions on the choice of
places to visit both before and after arriving in Italy.
But Misson very sensibly remarks: *"Tis almost im-
possible to fix the road that ought to be taken by those
who design to travel to Italy, since the choice of that
depends on the place where they intend to enter the
country, and the time they resolve to spend in it. Only,
in general, they ought to consult the map, and so take
their measures, that they may see the last days of the
camaval at Venice, the Holy Week at Rome, and the
octave of the Sacrament at Bologna; to avoid being
at Rome during the great heats, etc. ... If they cannot
be at Venice during the camaval, they ought at least
to be there on Ascension Day." ^

We cannot go into great detail, but must content our-
selves with presenting a few routes that were most im-
portant. These are obviously the routes leading to Rome
and to Naples, as well as those connecting Turin, Milan,
Venice, Genoa, Bologna, Florence. In the great re-
gion drained by the Po the variety of possible routes
is bewildering.^ But in the selection of routes throughout
a good part of Italy personal choice had comparatively
small play. The tourist must conform to the obstacles
presented by mountain barriers and shape his course
as passes and valleys dictated.

The configuration of the great chain of the Apennines
permitted but two main routes from the cities of northern
Italy to Rome. One route connecting Florence * and
Rome passed through Siena, running down the west side
of the peninsula some miles back from the coast. This
route was one hundred and fifty-three miles long, and

278

ITALY

touched Poggibonsi, Siena, Borgo, Lucignano, Buon
Convento, Radicofani, Acquapendente, Vitcrbo, Rome.*

The other main route closely followed the coast of the
Adriatic. Setting out from Venice — as one coming
over the Brenner might well do — one went by gondola
to Chioggia, and then, crossing the mouths of the Adige
and the Po and a good number of other streams and
wet places, arrived at Ravenna. Thence one proceeded
through Rimini, Pesaro, Fano, Sinigaglia, Ancona," and
Loretto, and by Foligno, Spoleto, Temi, Narni, and
Otricoli to the Papal city — a distance of three hundred
and four miles from Venice. ^ As there were interesting
places to visit both on the east and on the west side of Italy,
the tourist was advised to go down the one side and to
return on the other.

Besides these two main routes, one less popular,^ though
intensely interesting to the student of the Middle Ages,
ran from Bologna over the Apennines through the center
of the peninsula, passing by way of Perugia and Assisi and
finally joining the main road from Ancona to Rome.^
Goethe traveled this way on his famous Italian journey,
visiting, besides other places, Perugia, Assisi, Foligno,
Spoleto, and Tcrni. But the accommodations on this
route left much to be desired.

From Rome one could go to Naples by land or by
sea, but, as already remarked, the roads in the great
region south of Rome were wretched at best, even on the
main route to Naples, and in the less frequented parts,
were mere bridle-paths. One land route from Rome
to Naples began with the Appian Way, and touched Ter-
racina, Fondi, Mola, Gaeta, and Capua.

Another, a little farther inland, passed through Monte
Cassino, but before reaching Naples joined the other
road and proceeded through Capua and Caserta. But
neither route was very satisfactory to the tourist who
depended for his comfort upon the inns along the road.

The routes already outlined were in general closely
followed, but to some degree they were modified to suit

279

ITALY

individual taste or convenience. In addition to the great
towns, the tourist would inevitably pass through many
others more or less notable and bestow upon them such
attention as his taste dictated and his time permitted.

The tourist who had come by sea along the Riviera
to Genoa or Leghorn, or over Mont Cenis to Turin, com-
monly went down the west side of the peninsula to Rome
and reserved Venice for the end of the journey. William
Bromley's trip, for example, made about the close of
the seventeenth century, is typical of the route followed
by the average traveler throughout the eighteenth cen-
tury. It includes Genoa, Milan, Pavia, Parma, Reggio,
Bologna, Florence, Lucca, Pisa, Leghorn, Siena, Monte-
fiascone, Rome, Via Appia, Capua, Naples (where he
spends five days), Rome, Otricoli, Nami, Temi, Spoleto,
Loretto, Ancona, Fano, Pesaro, Rimini, Ferrara, the Adige
and the Po (which he crosses by ferry), Rovigo, Padua,
Venice, Verona. The attentive reader will notice some
striking omissions, but one hurried traveler could not see
everything.

When Addison made his famous journey to Italy his
guide-book was Misson's "New Voyage to Italy," which
in the French or in translation served at least two gen-
erations of tourists. Addison spent over four years abroad,
remaining in France about eighteen months to perfect
himself in the language. Then resuming his travels he
coasted from Marseilles to Monaco and thence to Genoa.
From here he made his way to Venice through Pavia,
Milan, Brescia, Verona, and Padua. His route to Rome
took him down the east coast and enabled him to visit
Ferrara, Ravenna, Rimini, — with a side trip to the little
mountain republic of San Marino, — Pesaro, Fano, Sin-
igaglia, Ancona, and Loretto. From Rome he proceeded
to Naples by land, saw the city and the environs, and
returned to Rome by sea. After carefully studying Rome
and the neighborhood, he went by way of Siena, Leg-
horn, Pisa, and Lucca to Florence. Before leaving Italy
he saw also Bologna, Modena, Parma, and Turin, and

280

ITALY

finally went over Mont Cenis to Geneva. His choice
of places was admirable, but he saw very few outside
the usual round. In Switzerland he visited a few towns,
among which were Fribourg, Bern, and Zurich. To
Vienna he journeyed through Innsbruck and Hall and
returned to England by way of Germany and Holland.

About a generation after Addison's tour, Keysler, a
German traveling tutor by profession, outlined in an
excellent hand-book a route followed by multitudes of
tourists. In many featiu-es his route strikingly resembles
Addison's, though the order is very different. Follow-
ing this route the tourist crossed Mont Cenis to Susa
and Turin, ^ made an excursion to the Borromean Isles,
Milan, and Pavia, and proceeded to Genoa by way of
Alessandria. From Genoa he went by ship to Leghorn
and from there by carriage to Rome, through Pisa, Lucca,
Florence, Siena, and Viterbo. After Rome came a trip
to Naples by way of Velletri, Fondi, and Capua. Return-
ing to Rome he followed the coast road along the Adriatic
from Loretto to Ravenna and then visited a good number
of cities in the region north of the Apennines — Bologna,
Modena, Reggio, Parma, Piacenza, Cremona, Mantua,
Verona, Vicenza, Padua, Venice. Keysler calls attention
to the fact that the post-houses along the Adriatic coast
road gave the traveler better accommodations than on
the route from Florence to Rome,^ and brought him
in contact with people more satisfactory to deal with; for,
says he, "they conclude" that travelers on the way to
Rome "are strangers to the road, and therefore think
it allowable to take all advantages they can of the un-
experienced." ^

Keysler's route, with the places he singles out for a
visit, is admirable, and although it necessarily leaves
many interesting cities untouched, it includes much
that is most characteristic in Italy. Such, then, in the
order followed by Addison or by Keysler, was the normal
track of the English tourist, though not every tourist
attempted so much.^

281

ITALY

But the ambitious scholar tried to do more and followed,
with some variations, the plan suggested by Eustace for
an elaborate classical tour lasting a year and a half and
including the greater part of the peninsula. The tourist
making this tour visits in order Brussels, Liege, Spa,
Aix-la-Chapelle, Cologne, Bonn, goes along the Rhine
to Coblenz, Mainz, Strassburg, crosses the Rhine, sees
Mannheim, and traverses the Palatinate and the terri-
tories of Wiirtemberg, Bavaria, and Salzburg. By way
of the Tyrol or the Rhetian Alps he goes through Inns-
bruck over the Brenner Pass to Trent, Bassano, and
Mestre. Thence he may send his carriage by land to
Padua and embark for Venice. From Venice he goes
to Padua by the Brenta, visits Arqua and the Euganean
Hills, then Ferrara and Bologna, and proceeds by the
Via Emilia to Forli. Then he turns to Ravenna, skirts
the Adriatic to Rimini, and makes an excursion to San
Marino. Advancing along the coast toward Rome he
goes through Ancona, Osimo, Loretto, and Macerata to
Tolentino, and from thence, over the Apennines to Fol-
igno, Spoleto, Temi, and Civita Castellana, he arrives
at Rome by the end of November. He is warned not
to cross the Apennines as long as there is danger of
malaria from the Pontine Marshes and the Campagna.
After spending December in Rome, he goes to Naples for
January, February, and March, and studies the environs.
Returning to Rome the week before Easter he sees in
April, May, and June the region about Rome, — Tibur
(Tivoli), Ostia, Antium, Praeneste, the Sabine Mountains,
— and spends July and August in the hill country about
Albano. In September he turns toward Florence, visits
Vallombrosa, Camaldoli, and La Vema, and winters
in Florence and other Tuscan cities. Early in February
he passes the Apennines to visit Modena, Parma, Pia-
cenza, Lodi, Cremona, Mantua, Verona, allowing four
or five days or more to each. From Verona he goes to
Peschiera and Lago di Garda; thence by Brescia and
Bergamo to Milan, Como, Lago Maggiore, Vercelli, Tor-

282

ITALY

tona, Genoa, and along the Maritime Alps by Savona to
Nice, and concludes his Italian tour with Turin.

This is without question an admirable tour, as far as
it goes, but in view of the striking omission of the whole
of Sicily, of Orvieto, Assisi, Perugia, Cortona, Chiusi,
Gubbio, Urbino, Siena, Volterra, and a score of other
places of interest alike to the classical and the ordinary
tourist, the concluding remark of Eustace is particularly
suggestive: "If while at Naples, he find it safe or prac-
ticable to penetrate into the southern provinces of Cal-
abria and Apulia, he will not neglect the opportunity;
and, with the addition of that excursion, by following the
road which I have traced out, he will have seen every
town of note, and indeed every remarkable plain, hill,
or mountain in Italy." ^

III

But it is time to turn from routes to the cities them-
selves. It is hardly necessary to consider in detail every
place that tourists visited, and such a procedure would
manifestly carry us far beyond our limits, but we may well
single out a few typical cities of special interest. We have
already observed that tourists generally followed routes
that had long been established. But in laying out their
itinerary tourists naturally modified their plans for a
great variety of reasons. More than one place owed a
good part of its popularity to the fact that it was con-
veniently situated on one of the conventional lines of
travel.

A good instance is Chambery, in Savoy. This old city,
on one of the main eighteenth-century routes to Italy and
in the midst of charming mountain scenery, drew many
English tourists for a protracted stay. But the Earl
of Cork and Orrery, to cite one example, confessed his
disillusion when he really saw the place: "How have I
been mistaken in my expectations of Chamberry? I had
read so much in news-papers, treaties, and modem his-

283

ITALY

survey of Italy. Genoa the Superb owed its title, in part,
to its magnificent situation and in part to its palaces.
The Via Baibi and the Via Nuova were two of the most
famous streets in Europe. Great wealth had flowed into
the city through the channels of trade; and the excess
of shrewdness that the Genoese displayed had long since
won them the reputation "of being a treacherous, over-
reaching set of people, ... so cunning that it would
be impossible for a Jew to get bread amongst them." ^
As at Venice, the nobles of Genoa for centuries had not
disdained to turn their attention to commerce and to
banking, and some of them had incomes of a million
a year.^ But here, as elsewhere, the nobles had degen-
erated, and they displayed little of the energy of their
ancestors. " Public opinion is nothing here,"^ says Dupaty,
the French tourist. Yet the Genoese people had the
proud distinction of maintaining their independence
in the eighteenth century in the face of Austria.^

Visitors to Genoa as a rule express little enthusiasm.
Dupaty finds the streets dirty and filled with beggars.^
So numerous were the mendicants that Mrs. Piozzisays:
"A chair is, therefore, above all things, necessary to be
carried in, even a dozen steps, if you are likely to feel
shocked at having your knees suddenly clasped by a
figure hardly human; who perhaps, holding you forcibly
for a minute, conjures you loudly by the sacred wounds
of our Lord Jesus Christ to have compassion on his
wounds;" ^ at the same time showing them. No particu-
lar significance need be given to the presence of the beg-
gars, who were only too common throughout the penin-
sula. Yet in a meastu-e they showed that Genoa shared
the decay of the rest of Italy. In other respects, Genoa
had a somewhat unpleasant reputation, which appears
to have been fairly earned. Tourists commonly remarked
upon the affability, but also upon the penuriousness, of
the nobles, the lack of interest in art, the public per-
mission of games of chance, and the dullness of the city.^
Cicisbeism here, as elsewhere, was general.

286

ITALY

Women had more privileges at Genoa than in most
of the cities of Italy; they were far better educated than
in any other part of Italy, though some tourists remark
upon their distaste for reading; ^ and they might have
been expected to make the city the social rival of Turin,
at least. Such rank it never attained, and at best it can
hardly be called a favorite sojourn of English tourists.
But whatever its drawbacks, it was one of the gateways
to Italy, and it saw every year a cosmopolitan society gath-
ered from all parts of Europe — from England, "Ger-
many, France, Sweden, and Russia" — that met in the
conversazioni to which one might with no great difficulty
find admittance. Dull as the conversazioni usually were,
with their endless games of chance and their vapid chatter,
they were not lacking in outward splendor. The palaces
were "magnificently furnished with pictures, gildings,
lustres"; ^ and the entertainments, although "more costly
than elegant," 2 were fairly typical of what one might
expect to find elsewhere in Italy.

When we pass from Genoa to the region drained by the
Po, we find an open country in which the tourist could
journey in any direction at his convenience. We cannot
follow him from point to point, but must single out for a
word of comment a few favorite cities. And we may well
begin with Milan.

Milan was the third city in Italy for wealth and pop-
ulation, and in De La Lande's opinion was "of all the
cities of Italy the one where strangers were most favorably
received." ^ All sorts of foreign money circulated there;*
and even in Misson's day there were two men ' ' who made
it their business to show the rarities of the place to stran-
gers." ^ The people of Milan were "commonly com-
pared to the Germans for their plain honesty, and to
the French for their fondness of pomp and elegance in
equipages and household furniture." ^

Under the Spanish domination Milan and the sur-
rounding country had been overloaded with debts; com-
merce had been reduced to almost nothing, agricul-

287

ITALY

ture neglected and the people impoverished. In the
course of the eighteenth century, after Milan came under
Austrian rule, reforms of all sorts were introduced. Wealth
followed industry, and reasonable contentment pre-
vailed. "The period of Maria Theresa," says Tivaroni,
"in the memory of the Lombards who could compare it
wnth the Spanish, remained the age of gold." ^

Milan was noted for its comfort and cheapness, ^ but
it had no such fascination as did Naples or Rome, and
never won an assured place as the favorite abode of Eng-
lish travelers who could afford the time for a protracted
sojourn. De La Lande advises the tourist to spend four
days at Milan. In this time a busy man could easily see
the pictures at the Brera, the collection of medals, the
churches, and the great hospital, though, of course, he
could make little or no acquaintance with the people.
As already remarked, there was no lack of welcome for
foreigners, particularly for the English, at fashionable
balls and assemblies. But the society the hurried tourist
saw was mainly that which paraded the streets in carriages
in the evening and passed and repassed in the great place
about the cathedral.

From many points of view, particularly in its buildings,
brilliantly representing many types of architecture, and
in its collections of art, Milan unquestionably offered
notable attractions. But tourists were disposed to be
critical. Especially did the cathedral in its partly fin-
ished state fail to satisfy the , taste of many, though
they were awed by its size. Burnet's comments are typ-
ical: "The dome hath nothing to commend it of archi-
tecture, it being built in the rude Gothic manner; but
for the vastness and riches of the building it is equal
to any in Italy, St. Peter's itself not excepted." But
he goes on to say: "The riches of the churches of
Milan strike one with amazement, the building, the
painting, the altars, and the plate, and everything in the
convents except their libraries, are all signs both of
great wealth and of a very powerful superstition. But

288

ITALY

their libraries not only here, but all Italy over, are
scandalous things." *

Beside Burnet's impressions we may place those of
De Brosses, more than a half-century later. The lively
French traveler was enthusiastic over Milan until he had
visited Rome. But, says he, "Rome has so many other
beautiful things that I have seen since, that they have
entirely spoiled Milan for me." ^ He would like, he says,
to withdraw all the superlatives that he had put into his
earlier letters. An opinion of this sort must not be taken
for more than it is worth, but it unquestionably represents
a not infrequent attitude toward Milan in the eighteenth
century.

In going from Milan to Venice one was likely to see
Verona and Padua. To the mere tourist Verona offered
less for a long stay than Florence or Rome, but the swift
foaming river, the girdling mountains, the quaint beauty
of the medieval city, and the solemn dignity of the great
Roman amphitheater, gave the little city a marked in-
dividuality. Few situations in Italy were more delight-
ful. Evelyn, with his English fondness for country life,
said that of all places he had seen in Italy he would there
fix his residence. Mrs. Piozzi counted Verona the gay-
est town she had ever lived in; and this, after a long ex-
perience with society in London and on the Continent.
The city had come up since Misson's day, when it looked
"like a poor place," with little trade and with not many
of the landed gentry who made any great figure. In the
eighteenth century Verona saw every year a multitude
of tourists, but, for the most part, they rapidly viewed
the amphitheater, the churches, and the other sights,
and passed on to Venice, to Florence, to Rome.

In going from Verona to Padua many travelers passed
through Vicenza. This little city possesses in the fagade
of its town-house the greatest masterpiece of Palladio,
to say nothing of his famous Olympic theater and a
score of notable palaces, but in general the comments
of tourists on Vicenza are contemptuous. Misson calls

289

ITALY

the town-house " an indifferent structure, as indeed,"
he adds, "are many others which pass among them for
mighty magnificent buildings"; and later travelers echo
his opinion.

One who was bound for Venice could hardly avoid
visiting Padua. The university no longer attracted
English students as it did in the reign of Elizabeth, when
young Oxonians who traveled in Italy were accustomed
to carry home certificates of matriculation at Padua, ^
but despite the partly deserted thoroughfares there was
a quiet charm in the place that still brought many tourists.
Not every one, it is true, displays the enthusiasm of the
clerical Dr. Warner, who writes to Selwyn in 177S: "Oh
sir, you must come to Padua! There are a thousand
things worth seeing, and I think there would be good
society found in it. I am much pleased with it. The
grass indeed, grows in the streets, but perhaps I like it
the better for that reason." '

Like most other Italian cities, Padua, in the eighteenth
century was in a depressed state. Trade had greatly
fallen off; the population had sadly dwindled; beggars
swarmed at every corner. Tourists bent upon social
pleasure felt the air of melancholy that brooded over the
place, and not many thought of making a prolonged stay
there, as had so commonly been the case in the sixteenth
century. The renowned church of St. Anthony still was
an attraction to the devout from all over Italy, but to
stolid English tourists it was a, mere object of curiosity.
Most of the other churches excited little interest. The
French tourist De La Lande devotes half a page to Giotto's
frescoes in S. Annunziata nell'Arena,^ but visitors in gen-
eral in the mid-eighteenth century are not much con-
cerned with medieval art.

IV

When at Padua one was at the threshold of Venice.
Few tourists neglected Venice, for the charms of the island

290

ITALY

city were unique. The marvelous situation of the place,
with the tides of the sea sweeping past the walls of stately
palaces, appealed strongly to the imagination and drew
multitudes from every country in Europe. In the Carnival
season the number of strangers rose to thirty thousand.^
In 1766, Venice still ranked as the third city in Italy,^ but
she was nevertheless the mere shadow of her former self and
possessed only the tradition of the days when she was Queen
of the Adriatic and made her might felt in the Far East.

The so-called Republic of Venice was in reality a narrow
oligarchy, in which the common people counted for noth-
ing.3 Not only were the common people excluded from all
voice in the government, but so, too, were most of the no-
bility. The direction of affairs was in the hands of a few
of the richest families, while the rest of the population
acquiesced in entire indifference.^ A diminutive army of
four thousand men was charged with guarding the Vene-
tian provinces and with maintaining, in some degree, the
dignity of the state. But beggars and worthless vagabonds
swarmed in the city streets and in the outlying country.
Thieves greatly disturbed the public tranquillity and per-
sonal security.6 Yet we may note that the city was lighted
at night by three thousand lanterns.^

Many things were, indeed, in a bad way. All classes of
society were impoverished. The nobles did nothing useful
and occupied their too abundant leisure with gambling and
licentiousness. The old commercial preeminence of Venice,
along with her old aggressive spirit, had long since van-
ished. "The art of glass-making was in great decadence
. . . the manufacture of iron had declined." 7 The workers
in gold had lost their cunning. But in her poverty and
weakness Venice had not lost her arrogance. The jealous
suspicion that had come down from an earlier day forbade
the nobles to hold any conversation with ambassadors or
foreign ministers.^ Even to address them through a third
party was hazardous.^ Rightly enough Sharp remarks:
"The law therefore renders the life of a foreign minister
exceedingly dull and unsociable; besides that it stops the

291

ITALY

the town-house "an indifferent structure, as indeed,"
he adds, "are many others which pass among them for
mighty magnificent buildings"; and later travelers echo
his opinion.

One who was bound for Venice could hardly avoid
visiting Padua. The university no longer attracted
English students as it did in the reign of Elizabeth, when
young Oxonians who traveled in Italy were accustomed
to carry home certificates of matriculation at Padua, ^
but despite the partly deserted thoroughfares there was
a quiet charm in the place that still brought many tourists.
Not every one, it is true, displays the enthusiasm of the
clerical Dr. Warner, who writes to Selwyn in 1778: "Oh
sir, you must come to Padua! There are a thousand
things worth seeing, and I think there would be good
society found in it. I am much pleased with it. The
grass indeed, grows in the streets, but perhaps I like it
the better for that reason." ^

Like most other Italian cities, Padua, in the eighteenth
century was in a depressed state. Trade had greatly
fallen off; the population had sadly dwindled; beggars
swarmed at every corner. Toiurists bent upon social
pleasure felt the air of melancholy that brooded over the
place, and not many thought of making a prolonged stay
there, as had so commonly been the case in the sixteenth
century. The renowned church of St. Anthony still was
an attraction to the devout from all over Italy, but to
stolid English tourists it was a mere object of curiosity.
Most of the other churches excited little interest. The
French tourist De La Lande devotes half a page to Giotto's
frescoes in S. Annunziata nell'Arena,^ but visitors in gen-
eral in the mid-eighteenth centtiry are not much con-
cerned with medieval art.

IV

When at Padua one was at the threshold of Venice.
Few tourists neglected Venice, for the charms of the island

290

ITALY

city were unique. The marvelous situation of the place,
with the tides of the sea sweeping past the walls of stately
palaces, appealed strongly to the imagination and drew
multitudes from every country in Europe. In the Carnival
season the number of strangers rose to thirty thousand.^
In 1766, Venice still ranked as the third city in Italy,^ but
she was nevertheless the mere shadow of her former self and
possessed only the tradition of the days when she was Queen
of the Adriatic and made her might felt in the Far East.

The so-called Republic of Venice was in reality a narrow
oligarchy, in which the common people counted for noth-
ing.^ Not only were the common people excluded from all
voice in the government, but so, too, were most of the no-
bility. The direction of affairs was in the hands of a few
of the richest families, while the rest of the population
acquiesced in entire indifference.'* A diminutive army of
four thousand men was charged with guarding the Vene-
tian provinces and with maintaining, in some degree, the
dignity of the state. But beggars and worthless vagabonds
swarmed in the city streets and in the outlying country.
Thieves greatly disturbed the public tranquillity and per-
sonal security.^ Yet we may note that the city was lighted
at night by three thousand lanterns.®

Many things were, indeed, in a bad way. All classes of
society were impoverished. The nobles did nothing useful
and occupied their too abundant leisure with gambling and
licentiousness. The old commercial preeminence of Venice,
along with her old aggressive spirit, had long since van-
ished. "The art of glass-making was in great decadence
, . . the manufacture of iron had declined." ^ The workers
in gold had lost their cunning. But in her poverty and
weakness Venice had not lost her arrogance. The jealous
suspicion that had come down from an earlier day forbade
the nobles to hold any conversation with ambassadors or
foreign ministers.^ Even to address them through a third
party was hazardous.^ Rightly enough Sharp remarks:
"The law therefore renders the life of a foreign minister
exceedingly dull and imsociable; besides that it stops the

291

ITALY

channel through which young gentlemen on their travels
would naturally find access to the best company." ^ But,
says De La Lande, "the reserve that Venetians of the
highest class affect for the foreign ministers does not ex-
tend entirely to those who have relations with them and
who see them." And, he adds, "in everything that does
not concern the government one enjoys the greatest free-
dom at Venice, and strangers are not disturbed there." ^
Nevertheless, spies were ever on the alert, and early in the
century it behooved "every prudent person to be upon his
guard, and to observe the strictest caution in talking of
state affairs at Venice." ^ In Keysler's day the suspicious
government did not permit company to gather freely for
conversation in the coffee-houses round St. Mark's Place.*

Not unnaturally, the Venetian nobility avoided possible
trouble by having no unnecessary relations with foreigners.
The traditional exclusiveness had in the course of genera-
tions hardened into a fixed social usage. Strangers might
meet members of the Venetian nobility at a cafe or on the
Broglio, but were not commonly admitted to their houses
or to their social gatherings,^ and accordingly found "less
society at Venice than in most of the cities of Italy" ^ — a
situation that many English tourists found not hard to bear.
The nobles of Venice were, indeed, sadly degenerate and
well deserved the cutting satire of Goldoni.''

But although close relations with the Venetian nobility
were not easy to establish, this lazy, decadent city, with
its multi-colored spectacles, was a delightful place. Stran-
gers agree that there were few cities where one found so
much politeness as at Venice ^ and where one was made
more thoroughly at home. Venice was one of the half-
dozen cities of the peninsula that tempted foreigners to
make a prolonged stay.^ Evelyn spent six months there
while on his Continental tour. Naturally, the tide of Eng-
lish tourists at Venice ebbed and flowed. Lady Mary Wort-
ley Montagu, in a letter of October 14, 1739, says: "Here
are no English except a Mr. Berlie and his governor, who
arrived two days ago, and who intend but a short stay."

292

ITALY

But in an undated letter, possibly written in 1740, she
complains of "this town being at present infested with
English, who torment me as much as the frogs and lice did
the palace of Pharaoh, and are surprised that I will not
suffer them to skip about my house from morning till
night; me, that never opened my doors to such sort of
animals in England. I wish I knew a corner of the world
inaccessible to petit-maitres and fine ladies." ^

The attractions of Venice, even apart from the unique
situation and the exquisite buildings, were many. Even
to jaded tourists the Carnival, with its long-continued fes-
tivities, offered something unique. Strangers, accordingly,
flocked to Venice, and if possible arranged their tour so as
to be there at Ascension time, when was "the winding up
of the Italian season of amusements for foreigners." 2 The
great fair in the Piazza of St. Mark began with the Feast
of the Ascension, and on Ascension Day the Doge wedded
the Adriatic with his ring. Besides the out-of-door spec-
tacles, eight or nine theaters, including opera houses,
offered abundance of comedy for every taste.^ Tragedy
was out of fashion.^ Throughout the performance of the
play or the opera there was a constant buzz of conversa-
tion, but as soon as the ballet 'dancers flitted across the
stage the chatter ceased ^ and the eyes of the spectators
eagerly followed every movement. Strangers were warned
not to sit in the pit, for the gilded youth of Venice had the
pleasant habit not only of throwing the rinds of oranges and
other fruit from their boxes, but also of spitting upon the
heads of humbler folk who sat below them.^

Although the various forms of entertainment at Venice
afforded many strangers abundance of pastime for months,
tourists of active temperament often found that the novelty
of Venice rapidly wore off, and the city became tiresome.
Englishmen in particular, accustomed as they were to
brisk walks over the hills or to riding across country after
the hounds, felt the confinement irksome. "When you
wish to take the air here, you must submit to be paddled
about from morning till night in a narrow boat, along dirty

293

ITALY

canals; or, if you don't like this, you have one resource
more, which is, that of walking in St. Mark's." ^

Critical tourists eniunerate many other drawbacks. One
finds the water an invitation to gnats; and, as every one
knows, they are at times an intolerable nuisance in the
Venice of our own day.^ Moreover, at certain seasons the
stench from the canals was overpowering.^ In a letter to
Selwyn the lively Dr. Warner breaks out: "But if the
eye, with its neighbour nose, suffers itself to be carried
down the Grand Canal, which . . . leads to the chinks
and crannies of the city, — f ah ! an ounce of civet, good
apothecary, to sweeten my imagination — Venice is a stink-
pot, charged with the very virus of hell ! I do not wonder
that Howard of Bedford, the jail-man, who is just gone
from hence, should advise a young gentleman who is in the
house not to stay above four days lest he should be ill." *
Nugent objects to "the dampness of the air and the scar-
city of good water and fuel," and adds: "It may be a fine
city to spend a month or two in, but not to be confined in
all one's life." ^

Many tourists complain that even St. Mark's Place and
the Doge's Palace are unspeakably filthy. Baron von
Archenholz — to cite but one witness — says that "in the
Doge's Palace, not only the entrance, but the very stairs
are like a sink. Go where you will, you find whole rills of
stinking water, and smell its noxious exhalations. The
nobles, who honestly contribute their share, never regard
these nuisances, and paddle through them with uplifted
gowns." ^

Venice had, moreover, an unenviable preeminence as the
brothel of Europe,^ though Naples was notorious for its
vileness. Especially at the carnival time the comparative
reserve of ordinary seasons was thrown off, and courtesans
brazenly captured their victims in the streets. The moral
tone of the society that set the standards for Venice was
deplorable.^ Says Nugent: "The use of concubines is so
generally received that the wife generally lives in good cor-
respondence with them." Mothers, he goes on to say,

294

REGATTA ON THE GRAND CANAL, VENICE

dlJ'^ii^

ITALY

arrange to get one for an unmarried son. Sometimes two
or three young fellows share one among them and divide
the expense. "When the nobility have done with their
concubines, they become courtezans. Of these there are
whole streets full, who receive all comers; and as the
habits of other people are black and dismal, these dress in
the gayest colors, with their breasts open and their faces all
bedaubed with paint, standing by dozens at the doors and
windows to invite their customers." ^ Even Baretti ad-
mits that Venice is ' ' infinitely more corrupted ' ' than London
itself. There are, it is true, many ladies "of the most ex-
alted virtue," but "they are not commonly known to
English travellers." 2 " The courtezans here, " says North-
all, "are the most insinuating, and have the most alluring
arts of any in all Italy." ^ And Byron once remarked to
Captain Med win: "Everything in a Venetian life, its gon-
dolas, its effeminating indolence, its siroccos tend to ener-
vate the mind and body." The fact that women could go
alone in their gondolas without being watched ^ contributed
to the general immorality.

We must not linger undiily in Venice, but we ought to
glance for a moment at the ordinary eighteenth-century es-
timates of its most famous building, St. Mark's, and its
immediate surroundings. In externals Venice has changed
less in a centiiry and a half than any other large city in
Italy. The scenes in pictures of Canaletto appear even yet
strangely familiar to one who knows Venice. Cory ate and
Howell were there three centuries ago, yet their comments
show that much of the city as we know it to-day was al-
ready before their eyes. Cory ate is enthusiastic over the
splendor of Venice, and he regards St. Mark's Place as in-
comparably the finest in the world. "For here," says he,
"is the greatest magnificence of architecture to be scene,
that any place under the sunne doth yielde. Here you may
both see all manner of fashions of attire, and hear all the
languages of Christendome, besides those that are spoken
by the barbarous Ethnickes." ^ In view of the mild con-
tempt with which most eighteenth-century tourists looked

295

ITALY

upon the church of St. Mark, Coryate's estimate is highly
suggestive: "Next unto the Duke's Palace the beautifull
Church of Saint Marke doth of its owne accord as it were
offer it self now to be spoken off. Which though it be but
little, yet it is exceeding rich, and so sumptuous for the
statelenesse of the architecture, that I think very few in
Christendome of the bignesse doe surpasse it." ^

Far more reserved is the praise of a later day. There are,
indeed, few more illuminating illustrations of the taste of
the eighteenth century than appear in the comments upon
St. Mark's. Most travelers speak of it in slighting terms
and class it with Gothic churches as unworthy of admira-
tion. Says one: "All this labour and expense have been
directed by a very moderate share of taste." The seven-
teenth-century Evelyn found it "much too dark and dis-
mal, and of heavy work." ^ Burnet observes: "St. Mark's
church hath nothing to recommend it, but its great an-
tiquity, and the vast riches of the building." ^ And he is in
entire accord with travelers for more than a century after
him. The precious materials employed in the construction
excite wonder, but there is almost universal condemnation
of the style. One critic complains, "'Tis pity the design
was not conducted by a better judgement, and a finer taste
of architecture; 'tis neither what we call Gothick, nor is
it regular." ^ De La Lande calls it "neither the largest nor
the most beautiful church at Venice. It is of a bad Gothic,
and has almost the air of a fourneau, but it is the most
adorned, the richest, and the most celebrated of Venice." ^
Even the brilliant De Brosses has his fling: " It is a church
in the Greek style, low, impenetrable to the light, in
wretched taste both within and without, surmounted by
seven domes covered with gold mosaic which makes them
seem far more like chaldrons than cupolas." ^ He goes on
to say: "One can see nothing so pitiable as these mosaics.
Happily, the workmen had the wise precaution to inscribe
on each subject what they wished to represent." ^ Smith
pronounces St. Mark's Church "perhaps the most dirty
place of public worship in Europe, except the Jews' syna-

296

ITALY

gogue at Rome; it is at the same time the richest in mate-
rials and the worst in style." ^ But he is good enough to
add: 2 "Nevertheless this church is one of the most re-
markable in Italy for its antiquity and riches, though so
barbarous and inelegant in style." Eustace speaks of its
"gloomy barbaric magnificence "; ^ and other tourists
praise it, if at all, with great reserve.

The relative importance of St. Mark's, in the opinion of
some travelers, may be seen in the space allotted to it.
Northall, in his account of Venice, gives ten lines to St.
Mark's and no praise; ^ while to S. Giorgio Maggiore, or
at least to the paintings, he allows twenty-four lines.^ In
Mariana Starke's "Letters from Italy," she devotes five
and a half lines to St. Mark's and eleven lines to S. Catter-
ina,^ which most modem tourists leave unvisited, if, in-
deed, they know of its existence. The Campanile of St.
Mark's is commonly referred to as graceless, with no
merit but its height.'

But the vast proportions of St. Mark's Place and the
general effect of the magnificent buildings surrounding it
call forth lavish praise. Tourists never weary of describ-
ing the sights on the Piazza. Here all Venice poured out to
see and be seen. "In the evening," says Dr. Moore, "there
generally is, on St. Mark's Place, such a mixed multitude
of Jews, Turks, and Christians; lawyers, knaves, and pick-
pockets; mountebanks, old women, and physicians;
women of quality, with masks; strumpets barefaced; and,'
in short, such a jumble of senators, citizens, gondoleers,
and people of every character and condition, that your
ideas are broken, bruised, and dislocated in the crowd, in
such a manner, that you can think, or reflect, on nothing ; yet
this being a state of mind which many people are fond of,
the place never fails to be well attended, and, in fine weatheri
numbers pass a great part of the night there. When the
piazza is illuminated, and the shops in the adjacent streets
are lighted up, the whole has a brilliant effect, and as it is
the custom for the ladies, as well as the gentlemen, to fre-
quent the cassinos and coffee-houses around, the Place of

297

ITALY

St. Mark answers all the purposes of either Vauxhall or
Ranelagh." *

From scenes like these, so unlike the merrymaking in
Northern lands, tourists largely made up their estimate
not merely of Venice, but of Italy — an estimate that did
scant justice to much of the serious life of the country. But,
as for Venice, since the Carnival amusements lasted half the
year,2 strangers might be pardoned for inferring that the
inhabitants had little of serious import to occupy them.

V

Some of the cities already considered possessed remark-
able attractions, and the same is true of several other cities
in the low country north of the Apennines and drained by
the Po. But for most of these we can spare but a word ; for
some, not even that.

Piacenza and Cremona deserved more attention than
they commonly received. But travelers not infrequently
made an effort to see the tower of the cathedral of
Cremona which was famous as the loftiest in Italy. When
traveling on the old ^Emilian Way from Piacenza to Bo-
logna and beyond, tourists were unlikely to neglect Parma,
which for its social and other attractions was one of the
most popular cities of Italy in the eighteenth centtu-y.
Nugent counted the theater at Parma as the finest in the
world. Tourists gave much attention to the art treasvires
of Parma, and in particiilar to the masterpieces of Correggio
in the cathedral. Reggio and Modena detained for a time
the leisurely tourist — Modena being celebrated up to 1745
for its collection of Italian masters, sold in that year to
become the glory of the Dresden Gallery. But for a pro-
tracted stay neither city could rival Bologna. To Bologna
we shall come in a moment.

Meanwhile, we must glance at one city on the east side
of Italy in which most travelers were likely to lodge for at
least a night, and that city was Ferrara. But for Ferrara
few eighteenth-century travelers have any praise. Sump-

298

ITALY

tuous though many of the ancient palaces were that had
once been the pride of Italy, the broad, ill-paved streets,
grass-grown and neglected, and the general air of poverty,
affected the tourist with melancholy.^ Misson described,
it as " so poor and desolate that it cannot be viewed without
compassion." 2 Breval counted it, "next to Pisa, the
worst inhabited fine town" he ever saw. Baron von
Archenholz suggested that it might be well to write on the
gates, "This town is to be let," and Mrs. Piozzi says that
she was on the point of praising it for its cleanliness, till she
"reflected that there was nobody to dirty it. I looked half
an hour before I could find one beggar — a bad accotmt of
poor Ferrara!"'

Visitors at Ferrara complained of the bad water;* of
the swarms of hungry mosquitoes that devoured them by
day and by night; of the noxious exhalations from the
lowlands about the city; of the canals that were choked
and abandoned.^ Matters have much improved in our
time, but even yet Ferrara is one of the cities that most
travelers leave with more pleasure than regret.

On the way to or from Florence one commonly visited
Bologna, which was counted "the finest and most wealthy
city in the whole ecclesiastical state." ® Dr. Moore, in-
deed, goes so far as to say that, "next to Rome itself,
there is perhaps no town in the world so rich as Bologna." '
Among Italian cities Bologna had an enviable reputation
for culture and for coiu-tesy to strangers. The university
was thought by tourists to justify a visit to the city even
if they took no accoimt of other attractions. But these
were not small. De Brosses preferred on the whole the
palaces of Bologna to those of Florence.^ In our day
the art treasures of Bologna, with one or two striking ex-
ceptions, are counted of secondary importance, but in the
eighteenth century the works of the Caracci and of Guido
Reni drew forth warm appreciation from tourists. Mar-
iana Starke even maintains that one of Annibale Caracci 's
pictures "may vie with the finest productions of Raffaelle,
while it surpasses them all in beauty of coloring." ^

299

ITALY

The people of wealth and quality were notable for
the zeal with which they studied French literature and
followed French fashions.' But the Germans had also
their admirers; and there were two factions, one de-
voted to the French, the other to the Germans.^

What we have noted elsewhere as characteristic of
Italian manners at the theater was very marked at Bo-
logna. Chatter went on steadily throughout the opera.
Ladies conversed in loud tones with their friends in the
boxes on the opposite side, even shouting to make them-
selves heard. When they applauded they stood, clap-
ping their hands and crying, "Bravo! Bravo!" ^ There
was no lack of society or other entertainment for such
strangers as cared for it, though there was nothing
so distinctive about the assemblies of Bologna as to
call for special comment here.

VI

We must move on to Florence, which throughout the
eighteenth century was regarded as one of the most agree-
able cities in Europe, and one of the three or four cities of
Italy that every tourist must visit. Florence has in some
measure retained in our own day the peculiar charm
that it had a century and a half ago, though iconoclasts
have demolished the picturesque walls and towers that
once encircled the city, and modernized and vulgarized
more than one exquisite survival of the Middle Ages.
Eighteenth-century Florence in its external aspect was
still largely medieval,^ with Renaissance additions. In a
quiet way one could spend considerable time very de-
lightfully at Florence. The city had no more than seventy
thousand inhabitants within the walls,^ but no other
Italian city except Rome offered so much that was worth
seeing. The surrounding country, too, was a perpetual
invitation to drive or to walk. Fiesole, with its wondcrftd
views across the valley of the Amo, made an attractive
outing for any clear day. All about Florence the scenery,

."^oo

ITALY

though not tame or flat, had that exquisite finish which
especially appealed to men of the eighteenth century.
The people of Tuscany, too, with their soft voices, their
unaffected good nature, and their obliging manners, made
the stay of the tourist doubly agreeable.

Tuscany, with Florence as its chief city, enjoyed far
more prosperity than most parts of Italy. The inhab-
itants were industrious and strove to get on in the world.
Most travelers remark upon the thrift of the Floren-
tine nobility, who did not disdain to add to their incomes
by selling their own wines at retail. As a sign they hung
out an empty flask at the court gates or from one of the
palace windows.^ Keysler even says that "a nobleman
often condescends to measure out a yard or half a yard
of silk without any regret." ^

Although taxes bore somewhat heavily upon the people,^
living was inexpensive — or at least seemed so to Eng-
lishmen. Sharp notes that "house rent at Florence is
still cheaper than at Venice";^ and Mariana Starke says
that "noble houses, unfurnished, may be hired by the
year for, comparatively speaking, nothing." ^ On the
other hand, she remarks: "Good private lodgings are
dear, unless travellers find their own plate and linen,
in which case handsome houses may be hired for about
ten sequins a month." ^ At this rate the rent of a fine
house would cost about three hundred and fifteen dollars
a year. We may observe that Sir Horace Mann leased
the Casa Manetti in the Fondaccio of Santo Spirito for
a rent of one hundred and twenty scudi annually, and
occupied it from 1740 until his death in 1786. It was in
this house that Horace Walpole visited Mann.

Food was cheap enough: "Price per head for breakfast,
at a coffee-house, half a paul — price per head for dinner,
at a Traiteur's, three pauls, bread and wine inclusive.
There is a German Traiteur who sends a dinner to your
own house at four pauls a head." ' Another item is sig-
nificant: "A sedan-chair to the opera-house and back
again usually costs three pauls; and to pay a morning

301

ITALY

visit, somewhat less; but it is always necessary to make
the bargain beforehand." ^

English travelers, with their keen instinct for personal
comfort, early discovered these and other advantages
offered by Florence, and many chose it for a long stay.^
What peculiarly commended it to them was its homd-
like character — even though it was so strangely unlike
an English city. Of testimonies in praise of Florence there
is a long array, but we can afford space for no more than
two or three. The estimate of Breval, as a traveler by
profession, is entitled to much consideration: "Florence,"
says he, "is the City of the World, next to Rome, where
a Dilettante may best entertain himself. I once pass'd
the best Part of a Summer here; and another time an
whole Winter, yet was scarce a Day without seeing some-
thing that was in some measure new to me." ^ Horace
Walpole, whose eulogies were seldom excessive, pro-
nounced it in 1740 "infinitely the most agreeable of
all the places he had seen since London";^ and he spent
fifteen months there. Years afterward it remained for
him "the loveliest town on earth." ^ Even the censorious
Dr. Sharp wrote in one of his letters, "Florence, in our
judgment, will be preferred to all the other cities of Italy
as a place of residence." ^

Time seldom hung heavily at Florence. Besides the
pleasure of roaming through the old streets ^ and occa-
sionally picking up a bargain at a pictiu-e dealer's or at a
bookstall, there were the opportunities to visit the sump-
tuous palaces of the nobility with their wealth of Re-
naissance frescoes ; there were notable churches — Santa
Maria Novella and Or San Michele and Santa Croce and
a score of others; there were Giotto's Campanile and the
wonderful bronze doors of the Baptistery and the statues
of the Loggia dei Lanzi, and, as the crowning glory of
all, there were the picture galleries, unsiirpassed in Italy.
Even then gleamed from the walls of the Tribuna the
pictures that are still the choicest treasures of the UfBzi;
and in the Tribuna the exquisite Venus de' Medici stood

302

ITALY

as coyly as she stands to-day. Even then Raphael's
Leo X and Madonna della Seggiola and the masterpieces
of Andrea del Sarto could be viewed in the gorgeous
apartments of the Pitti Palace.^

Tourists rightly counted these galleries sufficient in
themselves to repay the trouble of a journey to Florence. ^
One has, indeed, a strange feeling of kinship with the
tourists of a century or more ago in reading accounts
of what they saw and did at Florence. The following
passage might have been written yesterday: "I have,
generally," says Dr. Moore, "since our arrival at Florence,
passed two hours every forenoon in the famous gallery.
Connoisseurs, and those who wish to be thought such,
remain much longer. But I plainly feel this is enough
for me." ^

If pressed for time, the tourist could easily find a guide
to show him the sights of the city. Here, as at Rome and
Venice, there was a certain round of things to do that
was in a sense obligatory.

Besides viewing the ordinary sights of Florence, tourists
of social position commonly saw something of the society
there. There was at Florence little of the wild whirl of
Parisian society, but there was much social gayety, par-
ticularly in the form of conversazioni. Mann in 1769,
after an experience of nearly thirty years, speaks with
contempt of the dull weariness and insipidity of these
entertainments,^ but as English envoy he was bound to
attend them and to give them himself. One of his chief
duties, indeed, was to introduce his countrymen to Flor-
entine society. Nor was this difficult. "The nobility of
Florence," says Northall, "are in general very civil to
foreigners; and there are a great many fine ladies among
them." ^ Hospitality of the more solid English type,
indeed, was rare. Card assemblies, with light refresh-
ments — tea, coffee, lemonade and ices — were the rule.
And although by endless repetition these festivities might
pall on a man past middle life, they made a pleasant
break in the round of the tourist who had nothing to oc-

303

ITALY

cupy his evenings. "The societies at Florence," says
De La Lande, "are agreeable and easy; it is one of the
cities of Italy where strangers find most pleasure. . . .
One sees no jealousy there. Strangers are received by
everybody";^ and "with more frankness and familiar-
ity" than is customary in public assemblies in other
parts of Italy. ^ Yet this freedom had not been character-
istic of the century just preceding. Misson speaks of the
uneasiness of the English Resident "under the intolerable
constraint and eternal ceremonies of this place," and
also of "the invisibility of the fair sex." '

In the eighteenth century many Italians of rank at
Florence had a peculiarly unsavory reputation for gross
debauchery.^ This does not, however, appear to have
prevented them from being agreeable in society,^ for it
was the fashion to give considerable attention to the
lighter forms of ctdture. Educated Florentines knew
not only Italian literature, but, particularly in the second
half of the century, were fairly well acquainted with
English and French.^ They kept their minds busy in a
small way most of the time and combined sociability
with mild forms of intellectual activity, — about as im-
portant as the guessing of charades. "The gentlemen
of Florence," says Wright, "are very sociable in a sober
way. They have a nightly assembly in a house they
have taken for that purpose, where the several apart-
ments are ascertain'd for play or conversation. There
are persons attending to furnish iced liquors, coffee,
etc. From hence they go, some to the ladies' assemblies,
and card tables, some to the academies of the Virtuosi,
of which there are two: one entitled DeUa Crusca, and
the other known by the general name of I'Academia
Fiorentina. We were present one night at the latter:
the exercise began with a recital of epigrams, and other
little poems, some in Italian, some in Latin, and they
were as eager who should repeat first, as the boys are at
the Westminster election with their extempore verses.
Then succeeds a performance of another kind. A question

304

ITALY

is put. One whom they call the sibyl makes answer to
it in one word, and that a disproposito (as they call it);
somewhat that seems foreign to the purpose: then the
expositors of the sibyl are to reconcile this disproposito
answer to the question given; as for example, a question
was put, Whether 'tis more wholesome to sleep much or
little ? — The sibyl answer'd Sugar. The expositor added,
— As sugar is differently proportioned to suit with differ-
ent tastes, so is sleep, to suit with different constitu-
tions: some requiring more, some less. 2. Why Myopes
(the short-sighted) hold the object 'near, Preshytcs (the
old) hold it at a distance? Sibyl: Hair. — The expositor
compar'd a lock of hair to the assemblage of capilla-
ments or fibres in the optick nerve; whose expansion
within the bottom of the eye makes the tunica retina;
then he went on to explain how the image of an object
is formed on the retina, in the convex eye, and the fiat
eye, in the usual way." ^

For most English guests a little of this childishness
wotdd be more than enough. And repeated experiences
with this form of entertainment might well prompt such
a remark as Walpole in 1746 puts into a letter to Horace
Mann: "I agree to the happiness of living in Florence,
but I am sure knowledge was not one of its recommen-
dations, which never was anywhere at a lower ebb." ^

Like all the larger cities of Italy, Florence had a regular
season of opera.^ One thing insisted on was, however,
that the music should not interfere with conversation.
There was a continual exchange of compliments in loud
tones, and a continual moving from one side of the
theater to the other throughout the performance. Only
the dancers might count upon receiving any attention
from the audience.

During their stay at Florence most English tourists,
with no great effort, unquestionably learned much of
lasting value, yet the seductive charm of the place made
the life of many who sojourned there little more than a
round of pleasure. The poet Gray and his companion

305

ITALY

Walpole give some indication in letters to West of how
time was spent. Writing from Florence in Jtdy, 1740,
Gray says: "If you choose to be annihilated too, you
cannot do better than undertake this journey. Here
you shall get up at twelve o'clock, breakfast till three,
dine till five, sleep till six, drink cooling liquors till eight,
go to the bridge till ten, sup till two, and so sleep till
twelve again." ^ And Walpole in his turn: "You would
be as much amazed at us as at any thing you saw : instead of
being deep in the liberal arts, and being in the Gallery
every morning, as I thought of course to be sure I would
be, we are in all the idleness and amusements of the town." ^
After fifty years of absence Horace Walpole still looked
back with fond recollection to "the delicious nights on
the Ponte di Trinita at Florence, in a linen night-gown
and a straw hat, with improvisatori, and music, and the
coffee-houses open with ices." ^

With this catalogue of occupations before us, we are
prepared for Gray's confession to West in a letter of 1741 :
"Eleven months, at different times, have I passed at Flor-
ence; and yet (God help me) know not either people
or language." * But we may well believe that the record
of most tourists was less satisfactory than Gray's.

Whether for amusement or for earnest self -improvement,
Florence was throughout the eighteenth century, in
ever increasing measure, a favorite resort for tourists
and a center for excursions. In the region about Florence
the celebrated abbey of Vallombrosa, with its forests
of chestnuts, beeches, and firs, offered an easy excursion
that might occupy three or four days, and in the eighteenth
century it was often visited; for, as Horace Walpole
says, " Milton has made everybody wish to have seen it." ^
Walpole himself, however, confessed that though he was
many months at Florence he "never did see it. In fact,"
says he, "I was so tired of seeing when I was abroad, that
I have several of these pieces of repentance on my con-
science, when they come into my head." ^ And Wal-
pole is a type of hundreds of other tourists.

306

ITALY

Hardly less attractive in our day appears the excursion
to the monasteries of Camaldoli and La Vema, but most
eighteenth-century tourists could hardly appreciate the
wild charm of the scenery, and at all events did not flock
thither in great numbers.

VII

Although, as we have seen, many tourists approached
Florence from Bologna, those who followed the sea route
to Italy commonly disembarked at Leghorn and went
through Pisa and Lucca to the Tuscan capital. The most
notable port on the west coast of Italy was Leghorn. Eng-
lish merchants were there with their families in considerable
numbers, and English ships carried on a flourishing trade.
The population rose from forty-four thousand in 1767 to
fifty-eight thousand in 1781, about one sixth of whom
were Jews. Northall says, indeed, that Leghorn "has al-
most unpeopled Pisa, if we compare it to what it was for-
merly, and every day lessens the number of inhabitants at
Florence." ^

Owing to their skill as traders the English held the fore-
most place among the foreigners at Leghorn, their chief
rivals being the Dutch. As early as 1730 there were thirty-
six resident English families out of a population of about
forty thousand,^ and they were greatly respected. The
constant communication with England made Leghorn a
convenient port of entry and departure for those English
tourists who did not object to a long sea voyage. And since
at Leghorn they found many of the inhabitants speaking
English tolerably well, they felt at once at home. But
apart from commercial interests there was little to tempt
strangers to remain long, and they moved on to other cities.

Those who sought quiet found it, if anywhere, at Pisa.
Once a powerful city of a hundred and fifty thousand in-
habitants, Pisa was reduced in the eighteenth century to
be a provincial town of a tenth its former size. The low
situation upon the river Arno was thought to render "its

307

ITALY

air very unwholesome and obnoxious to strangers." Hun-
dreds of houses stood empty, and grass grew in the streets.
The Earl of Cork and Orrery wrote in 1754: "In my last
I told you, that we had thoughts of settling here. It is im-
possible. If either house, victuals, or even necessaries were
to be had in Pisa, we should be glad to remain in this city;
but in its present state, cameleons only can inhabit it.
Horses indeed may graze and fatten in the streets. Human
creatures, unless they are Italians, cannot find lodgings or
subsistence." ^

Not till the closing years of the eighteenth century did the
increase of trade and population banish the desolation that
hung like a pall over the city. Early in the nineteenth
century more than one English family selected Pisa as a
favorite abode. The Shelley s were exceedingly fond of the
place ; and here Byron took a house and shared it with Leigh
Hunt and his overflowing family.

But even in its lowest depression tourists visited Pisa in
considerable numbers. Evelyn thought the city "as much
worth seeing as any in Italy." ^ In the opinion of De
Brosses there were nowhere else to be found within so
small a space four things handsomer than the four at Pisa
— the Campo Santo, the cathedral, the Baptistery, and the
Leaning Tower. Especially does he count the cathedral
a noble and beautiful church.^ But eighteenth-century
English travelers were inclined to speak slightingly of Pisa.
Clenche says that "it has nothing else remarkable except
the Camposanto." ^ The Earl of Cork and Orrery finds
the Cathedral "dark and gloomy, . . . disgustful to the
eye upon the first entrance into it." ^ Pisa was, indeed, so
generally neglected or inadequately treated by English trav-
elers in their accounts that Mariana Starke at the end of
the eighteenth century offers that as her excuse for giving
"rather a minute description of the city," ^ which we need
not reproduce.

But we must spare a few words for Lucca. The little city
of Lucca had the reputation of being very civil to strangers
and also of being very cheap. Moreover, the Italian spoken

308

ITALY

there was unusually pure. Add to these attractions the
works of art and architecture within the walls, the beauti-
ful promenade round the ramparts, and the charming coun-
try surrounding the city, and one can understand why
travelers often preferred Lucca to Florence itself. Most
of the gentlemen of Lucca spoke French in Misson's day,
and the ladies were "not so invisible as in several other
parts of Italy." i Numerous quaint customs persisted.
"Strangers never fail," says Keysler, "to be welcomed here
with an evening serenade, which is accompanied with an
humble intimation that they would be pleased to make some
returns for such an honour." ^

One is tempted to enlarge upon the charms of Lucca and
its environs, including the famous Baths; to touch upon
other cities like Prato, Pistoia, and Arezzo, with their
notable works of art, but it is time to follow the tourist on
his way down to Rome.^

The first place of any importance after leaving Florence
was Siena. This was an exceptionally attractive little
city, prevailingly medieval in its architectiu-e, and counting
eighteen or twenty thousand inhabitants." Living at
Siena was very inexpensive; the people were "learned,
amiable, and remarkably kind to f oreigners " ; ^ besides
being reputed brilliant conversationalists.^ The town was
"also famous for the piu-ity of the Italian tongue, which,"
says Nugent, "is spoken here without that guttural pro-
nunciation so disagreeable in the Florentines. For this
reason a great many foreigners choose to reside here some
time to learn the language rather than at Florence, where
it is badly pronounced, or at Rome, where you have too
much hurry and noise." ^

Notably enough, most visitors to Siena lay aside their
usual prejudice against Gothic architecture long enough
to praise the cathedral as an architectural monument of
the greatest magnificence. De La Lande says that "one
could view it with pleasure even after having seen St.
Peter's." « A typical estimate is Breval's: "The most re-
markable thing we meet with at Siena is the Dome; of a

309

ITALY

Gothic Stile indeed, but very beautiful in its kind, and
would be still more so in my Opinion, were the Marble all
of one Colour." ^ It is interesting to observe that even
before 1700 the unique inlaid pavement of the cathedral
was so esteemed that portions of it were "covered with
boards to preserve it." ^ Travelers rarely fail to mention
this pavement as one of the most beautiful works of art to
be seen in Italy.

On the other hand, the wonderfully picturesque com-
munal palace, with its many works of medieval art, is dis-
missed by Keysler as "scarce worth seeing," ^ and by De
Brosses as "an old building which has nothing recom-
mendable, or at least curious, except some paintings still
more antique and more ugly than itself." ^ Tourists of the
eighteenth century were certainly not prepared to do full
justice to a medieval city like Siena, but the charm of the
place insensibly stole into the spirit of more than one who
sojourned there, and contributed in its measure to the revo-
lution in taste that slowly worked itself out before the end
of the century.

The journey from Siena to Rome was not wholly de-
lightful, though tourists were loud in their praise of the
country as far as Buonconvento. Most of the inns were
bad. Tourists were advised to take wine and water at
Siena for the rest of the way, "both being excellent here
and unwholesome in the succeeding towns." ^ At Acqua-
pendente the "first lascia passare used to be demanded,"
and if the tourist happened not to have one his "baggage
underwent a very unpleasant examination." ^ The route
passed through Viterbo, but hurried travelers commonly
ignored the ancient city and even the exqiiisite Villa Lante
in the environs.

Rome was reached by crossing the pestilential and
dreaded Campagna. To spend the night on this vast, un-
wholesome plain was thought to be hazardous for strangers,'
and, accordingly, the wayside inns, from lack of patron-
age, were of the poorest type, even when measured by
Italian standards. When Sharp went to Rome, "we found

310

ITALY

it necessary," says he, "to keep our post-horses all night
at a shabby inn, half-way to the post-house before you
arrive slx, the Campania, as preferring dirty beds and
dirty provisions, to no beds, no provisions, and a sup-
posed pestilential climate," ^

VIII

Unquestioned as the claim of Paris was to preeminence
in matters of fashion and taste, even Paris was, to most
tourists, in the variety of its attractions, not in the same
class with Rome; and at certain seasons, particularly
Carnival and Holy Week, Rome was alive with English
sight-seers. Writing from Venice, January 20, 1758, Lady
Mary Wortley Montagu says, "I hear Rome is crammed
with Britons. I suppose we shall see them all in their
turns." 2 De Brosses incidentally remarks upon "the
English, with whom Rome is always filled." ^ And Lady
Knight, writing in 1778, says, "There are many English
here, and many more are expected for the Holy Week."*
In a later letter she remarks: "The English are birds of
passage, most of them have taken their flight, but when I
first came we have been sixty together of an evening." ^
Fourteen years later she writes, "We have had a hundred
and fifty English here this spring." ^

They felt doubly at home there, for, as Ray already in
the seventeenth century remarked, "The inhabitants . , .
approach nowadays, in their fiunitures and some of their
manners and customs, more to the English than any of the
Italians besides"; ^ and this penchant for things English
became far more pronounced in the course of the eight-
eenth century. At Rome, more than in most Continental
cities, the English were able to get the things they required.
There was even an English coffee-house where they could
see English newspapers and meet their fellow countr5nmen,
particularly artists.^ Sharp commends the English students
of painting and sculpture at Rome as "a remarkable set of
sober, modest men, who by their decorum, and friendly

311

ITALY

manner of living amongst one another, do credit to their
profession." *

With the flood of English tourists it was no easy matter
to escape one's fellow countrymen at Rome. They lodged
in the same quarter of the city, they went to see the same
sights, and they thus constantly crossed one another's
paths. But tourists were not limited to association with
their own countrymen. One cannot say that all doors
stood open to them, but in general they were very freely
received. The people of Rome were noted for their cordial-
ity,2 and they even sought out strangers who had been
recommended to them by letters.' The ordinarily fault-
finding Sharp finds "the politeness of the Italians towards
our nation . . . very extraordinary." * James Edward
Smith observes that the "English in particular meet with
the kindest attentions, and a flattering sort of deference,
quite distinct from French cringing, from persons of all
ranks." * Particularly were the English welcome at the
palaces of the nobility and of the cardinals. Of the palace
of the Princess Borghese, De Brosses remarks that it is
"the ordinary place of meeting of the English, who are
here in great numbers, most of them very rich." ^

General as this hospitality was at Rome, it laid no heavy
burden of expense upon the host, since the cost of the eat-
ables at a conversazione was but a trifle, and strangers were
rarely if ever invited to meals ' or to participation in the
inner home life. Some tourists, perhaps not wholly with-
out reason, attributed the frugality of the Italian type of
hospitality, so unlike the German or the English, to mean-
ness. But it is worth while to present the Italian point of
view: "Italians prefer to build a great palace, to collect
pictures, to rear a lasting monument of some sort, rather
than to waste incomes none too large in the expense of
trivial entertainments." *

We must not linger upon this aspect of the life at Rome,
but must get a closer view of the city itself — and first of
some of its obvious defects. In the Rome of a century and
a half ago there were, of course, fewer brilliant shops than

312

ITALY

there are now; the hotels were far less pretentious; the
street pavements were less clean. The streets where the
Pope passed through were swept, the others never. ^ More-
over, although there was no police patrol at night, the
streets were not lighted, except by the candles and lamps
that burned before the madonnas,^ or by an occasional
lantern at the corner of some palace. "But in many
streets," says Tivaroni, "the darkness was perfect, and the
few that ventured to pass through the streets went with
lanterns carried by themselves or by well-armed servants." '

Defects of all sorts there unquestionably were,^ but not-
withstanding all these Rome had an abiding charm and
popularity. Here, if anywhere, the tourist was awakened
to an interest in ancient art and architecture and the his-
tory of the great past, and here he met notable people from
all over the world. In Rome, too, his morals were safer
than almost anywhere else.^ The spell of the Eternal City
worked most powerfully upon Englishmen of widest cul-
ture. For them Rome, even in ruins, was still, in a sense,
the august capital of the Empire, and still the mistress of
the world.

The visitor from the North very commonly got his first
sweeping view of the city from the height overlooking the
Vatican and the dome of St. Peter's and then descended the
long slope to the usual entrance. "Most English gentle-
men," says Northall, "enter at the gate of Porta del Popolo
in post-chaises, and drive down the Corso to the Dogana, or
custom-house, which was made out of the hall of Antoni-
nus Pius. ... As soon as they arrive, there are people on
purpose who attend to unload the baggage, which is carried
into the Dogana, and opened by proper officers, who soon
begin to tumble the things about, under a pretence of
searching to the bottom for contraband goods ; but a small
present prevents any insolence of that sort." ®

This formality over, one drove without delay to the

strangers' quarter — the Piazza di Spagna^ and the streets

leading from it.^ Here were the principal hotels and

lodging-houses that _ catered to English tastes.^ Here,

'313

ITALY

too, were the banks and the shops especially frequented
by Englishmen. " The ambassador of Spain at Rome exer-
cised a royal jurisdiction in the Piazza di Spagna and in the
neighborhood, which became for that reason the safest and
quietest quarters of the city." ^

Smollett supplies some interesting detail: "Strangers
that come to Rome seldom put up at public inns, but go
directly to lodging houses, ofj which there is great plenty
in this quarter. The Piazza d'Espagna is open, airy, and
pleasantly situated in a high part of the city immediately
under the Colle ^ Pinciana, and adorned with two fine
fountains. Here most of the English reside : the apartments
are generally commodious and well furnished; and the
lodgers are well supplied with provisions and all necessa-
ries of life. But, if I studied economy, I would choose
another part of the town than the Piazza d'Espagna,
which is besides at a great distance from the antiquities."^

But the Piazza di Spagna had won its undisputed posi-
tion as the common meeting-place for strangers. "Here
the ladies," says Northall, "sit at their ease in their coaches,
and receive the homage of the gentlemen standing at their
coach-doors. Thus an hour or two is spent every evening,
in breathing the worst air in Rome, mixed with clouds of
dust, pestered with beggars, and incommoded by coaches,
which press forward without observing rank or order." ^

But we must glance at other features, and first at the
size of the Papal capital. A century and a half ago Rome
was a city of only about 170,000 inhabitants^ — not so
large as to be oppressive or so small as to be insignificant,
though it occupied only a portion of the vast area enclosed
by the walls of Aurelian. In the seventeenth centiu*y Ray ^
estimated the population at 120,000 souls, the city being
surpassed in size by Venice, Milan, and Naples. The Rome
of our day has far outgrown the modest area that it occu-
pied in the eighteenth century, and has greatly altered in
other particulars. Many great buildings remain sub-
stantially the same; but, unfortunately for the artist and
the lover of the picturesque, the growth of the city within

314

ITALY

the memory of men still comparatively young has trans-
formed the setting and changed the entire spirit of the
place. Modem Rome is a city no longer dormant and
dreamy, but a bustling modem capital. The site of more
than one exquisite villa, with its ample grounds, has been
occupied by commonplace and pretentious modem apart-
ment houses. In many quarters the old Papal Rome of
the eighteenth century, with its gorgeous street pageants
and its grim palaces festooned with scarlet and gold, has
given place to a new city, more prosperous and progres-
sive, but also somewhat more vulgarized. At all events,
the comparative isolation of Rome, as it was before the
coming of the railway and the motor-car, has vanished
forever.

How agreeable the old city was we may learn from a
thousand sources; for the glamour of the city of the Cae-
sars, with its half -destroyed and half -buried monuments,
stirred the imagination of even the average tourist, and
led him to record his impressions. Nearly all the travel-
ers of the older day had at least a thin veneer of clas-
sical learning, and they united in sounding the praises of
the city of which every one had heard since the days of
childhood.

Visitors of every type found the city attractive. "Rome
has the air of a provincial city," says De Brosses; but,
he immediately adds, "I do not know, everything con-
sidered, whether there is any other city in Europe more
agreeable, more comfortable, and that I would rather
live in, than this, not even excepting Paris." ^ Baretti
cites the estimate of Middleton that "of all the places
he has ever seen, or ever shall see, . . . Rome is by far
the most delightful, because travellers there find them-
selves accommodated with all the conveniences of life
in an easy manner; because of the general civility and
respect shown to strangers, and because there every
man of prudence is sure to find quiet and security." ^

There was, indeed, something at Rome that satisfied al-
most every stranger. The antiquary took his pleasure in

31S

ITALY

exploring nuns; the artist in visiting the galleries and in
sketching groups of peasants standing beside broken
arches; the religious pilgrim in haunting famous churches
and securing an audience with the Pope ; the casual stranger
in frequenting conversazioni and balls; and the historian in
studying the varied fortunes of the imperial city. Well
might Goethe say: "Of the four months I have spent
in Rome not a moment has been lost." *

It is true that Rome, like most of Italy, presented
singiilar contradictions. Mariana Starke remarks upon
the great buildings and the treasures of art that "entitle
her to be called the most magnificent city of Europe."
But she adds, "her streets, nevertheless, are ill-paved
and dirty; while ruins of immense edifices, which con-
tinually meet the eye, give an impression of melancholy
to every thinking spectator." ^

Commerce was insignificant, and the main revenue of
the inhabitants was derived from perfumery, pomades,
flowers, pictures, and the curiosity of strangers.^ In
her diminished prosperity Rome shared the decay of all
Italy, and, says Dupaty, had more beggars than any other
city.*

The decline of imperial Rome was a favorite theme of
eighteenth-century poets, as it had been for generations
before.^ And the ordinary tourist was, in this matter,
in entire accord with the poets: "A man on his first arrival
at Rome," says Dr. Sharp, "is not much fired with its
appearance; the narrowness of the streets, the thinness
of the inhabitants, the prodigious quantity of monks
and beggars, give but a gloomy aspect to this renowned
city. There are no rich tradesmen here, who, by their
acquisitions, either enoble their sons, or marry their
daughters into the houses of princes. All the shops seem
empty, and the shop keepers poor; not one hackney
coach in so large a town. . . . This is the first impression;
but turn your eye from that point of view, to the magni-
ficence of their churches, to the venerable remains of
ancient Rome, to the prodigious collection of pictures

316

ITALY

and antique statues, . , . and, with a very few grains
of enthusiasm in your composition, you will feel more
than satisfied." ^

Hazlitt's reflections in 1824 might have been written a
century earlier: "In Rome, around it, nothing strikes the
eye, nothing rivets the attention but ruins, the fragments
of what has been; the past is like a halo forever surround-
ing and obscuring the present! Ruins should be seen
in a desert, Hke those of Palmyra, and a pilgrimage should
be made to them ; but who would take up his abode among
tombs? Or if there be a country and men in it, why
have they nothing to shew but the relics of antiquity,
or why are the living contented to crawl about like worms,
or to hover like shadows in the monuments of the dead?
Every object he sees reminds the modem Roman that
he is nothing — the spirits of former times overshadow
him, and dwarf his pigmy efforts: every object he sees
reminds the traveller that greatness is its own grave." ^

Eighteenth-century Rome was, indeed, in large meas-
ure a survival of an earlier age. Uninvaded by commer-
cialism, it was hardly touched by the modem spirit. Of
pubHc opinion there was scarcely a trace. The paternal
hand of the Papal Government was everjrwhere felt.
But the real objection to the government was not that
it was Papal but that it was sadly inefficient. Even De
Brosses, who, on the whole, prefers Rome to Paris, says,
"The govemment is the worst possible. Of the pop-
ulation a quarter are priests, a quarter are statues, a
quarter are people who do nothing. There is no agricul-
ture, no commerce, no machinery, in the midst of a fertile
country and on a navigable river." ^

Although Rome was, above everything else, a Papal
city and under ecclesiastical rule, as long as Protestant
visitors held their tongues and did not meddle with poli-
tics, they were quite undisturbed. Even in the seventeenth
century Ray remarks upon the tolerance of the ItaHans:
"They do also shew their civility to strangers in not so
much as asking them what religion they are of, avoiding

317

ITALY

all unnecessary disputes about that subject, which are
apt to engender quarrels; which thing we could not but
take notice of, because in France you shall scarce ex-
change three words with any man before he asks you that
question." ^ And a close observer remarks that even in
the Capella Paolina, affording room for but a score of
visitors, "Toleration extends here so far, that in this most
solemn service, when all the cardinals and the pope himself
were prostrate before the altar, some Swiss protestants re-
frained from kneeling, and gave no offence . " ^ At all events ,
Protestants were subjected to no "rudeness or compulsion,
which, it is notorious, is practiced in the chapel at Versailles.
In Lent, and on other fast or meager days, the protestants
never fail of meeting with butcher's meat, etc., at the inns
and taverns, without being at the trouble to proctire a
license for eating it." ^ But even toleration has its limits.
An eccentric Englishman had the boldness one day to run
up the steps in the center of the Scala Santa, which the
devout ascend only upon their knees, "but he was soon
called down with great indignation; his conduct was ex-
cused on the supposition of ignorance only." ^

In any case, prudence in speech was the part of wisdom.^
"In most of the coffee-houses," says Northall, "there are
a set of seemingly social and obliging persons, who have
the appearance of gentlemen, and insinuate themselves
into the company of strangers, who cannot be too much
on their guard against them, as they are only spies for
the inquisition." For "the least word against their re-
ligion or government,"^ the incautious stranger "will
have an order to depart the city in twenty-four hours,
and sometimes in twelve, on pain of inquisitorial im-
prisonment." ^ Even until late in the nineteenth cen-
tury, as Trevelyan reminds us, "In Rome the priest, the
spy, and the foreigner were the masters before whom
all must tremble for long years to come." ^

Notwithstanding the spies, the general attitude of the
Church towards foreigners, we are told, was "very prudent,
from the consideration that they enrich the city by ex-

318

ITALY

pending great sums of money here annually, so that
they are not strictly attended to." ^ Yet the Church was
very slow to give formal sanction to heretical worship
within the walls of Rome. "Even the English in the
hey-day of their power and reputation on the Continent,"
says Trevelyan, "were not allowed a church in Rome,
but had to be content to worship in a church outside
the Porta del Popolo." ^ The English appear to have
taken good-naturedly enough the exclusion of Protes-
tant services from the Papal city. They must have re-
membered that the attitude toward Catholics in English
cities of the eighteenth century was anything but cordial.

Protestants though most Englishmen were, many of
them arranged to be presented to the Pope. The seven-
teenth-century Evelyn tells us: "I was presented to kiss
his toe, that is, his embroidered slipper, two cardinals
holding up his vest and surplice: and then, being suffi-
ciently blessed with his thumb and two fingers for that
day, I returned home to dinner." ^ A century and a
quarter later Dr. Moore witnessed the same ceremony,
"under the auspices of a certain ecclesiastic who usually
attends the English on such occasions." * Tourists who
were not presented at the Vatican might, nevertheless,
easily "get a glimpse of His Holiness giving a benediction
from his balcony to the people assembled in the great
open place before the church of St. Peter," ^ or see him
pass in state through the streets. "Everywhere the
Pope goes," says De La Lande, "the streets are strewn
with green, all the bells are rung, and every one kneels
to receive his blessing,^ not rising until he has passed.
Those who do not wish to kneel or to descend from their
carriages are compelled to pass into another street." ^

There were numerous other spectacles to delight the eye.
The Carnival season drew to Rome a great concourse of
English tourists who watched the riderless horses racing
every day but Friday ^ in the Corso, and the thousand
fantastic disguises that filled the streets. To escape
attention, the Englishman like the rest generally wore

319

ITALY

a mask and a domino. Now and then he might see his
countrymen caricatured in dress and manner, especially
in their fashion of handshaking, which appealed to the
Italian sense of humor. ^ And he might count himself
fortunate if he escaped being blinded with a handful of
confetti. For at this season, says Moore, "the greatest
mark of respect you can show your friends and acquaint-
ances is to throw a handful of little white balls, resem-
bling sugar-plums, full in their faces." ^ In the Carnival
time Rome was ablaze with processions, with magnificent
carriages filled with gayly-dressed cavaliers and ladies,
all a-glitter with jewels. The dome of St. Peter's was
illuminated. There were masked balls. There were
diversions in the flooded Piazza Navone.

The expense of much of the popular merry-making was
trifling, and almost necessarily so, for, as already re-
marked, there was little commercial business at Rome, and
much poverty among the masses. But there was great
wealth in the Chiirch and in the hands of a few noble
families, and as a natural result there was often lavish
display. "The cardinals set the example of a great
luxury, and the nobility vied with them in displaying
their own riches in vessels of silver and gold, in dam-
asks, tapestries, pottery of great price, horses, carriages, liv-
eries." ^ " The magnificence of the great families of Rome,"
says De La Lande, "consists principally in having vast
palaces, many pages, running footmen, lackeys, horses,
carriages, costly pictures, and beautiful ancient and mod-
ern statues."^ But he significantly adds: "These rich
houses are very rare, even among the princes."

A stranger who sought recognition in high society was
obliged in some measure to do as the Romans did in
conforming to social laws. He might walk in the morning,
but after dinner, when the fine carriages began to move
up and down the Corso, he would hardly venture to ap-
pear there on foot.^ The long street was then so crowded
with carriages moving in opposite directions that a
pedestrian could hardly pass from one side to the other.

320 ,

ITALY

What the tourist did at Rome we cannot undertake to
follow in detail. The great sights as enumerated by eight-
eenth-century travelers are in the main those of our
time, though within the past two or three generations there
has been woeful destruction of choice bits of medieval
and Renaissance architecture, as well as extensive dis-
covery of the remains of the ancient world.

The eighteenth century was an age of superficial en-
thusiasm for antiquity, and every visitor to Rome duly
made the rounds of the more important ruins. But there
had been little excavation. The Coliseum was filled
with debris; the Palatine Hill was covered with gardens,
and unexplored; the arches of the theater of Marcellus
were blocked up and inhabited by scores of poor tenants;
the Forum was every Thursday and Friday a market
for cows and oxen,^ which wandered past the column of
Phocas and the half-buried arch of Severus. How differ-
ent, indeed, the Forum was from the place we know to-
day, excavated as it is to the level of prehistoric Rome,
we may see in any eighteenth-century description. Says
De La Lande, "The place Campo Vaccino, of which we
have said that the Forum made a part, is much larger
than the ancient place, since it extends as far as the temple
of Peace. It takes in a large part of the ancient sacred
way, and is to-day rather a field than a place. Trees
have been planted in the middle, but they are old and
without symmetry. A fountain has been placed there,
with a handsome granite basin, but it serves only to
water cattle. Some fagades of modem churches are
seen, but the principal part of this vast space presents
nothing but ruins." ^

But although ancient Rome was only partially disin-
terred, the city as a whole offered, even in the eighteenth
century, so much for examination and study that no
transient visitor could view it very thoroughly, par-
ticularly if he gave some attention to society. Many Eng-
lish tourists, it is true, cared little for art, yet as a part
of their duty while on the Continent, they spent much of

321 .

ITALY

their time in "looking after fine statues, the pictures
of great masters, medals, bronzes, and other curios." *
"At Rome," observes De La Lande, "everybody busies
himself with pictures and pretends to know them. Many
people live by this traffic, particularly with the strangers." ^

The ordinary plan of the sight-seer was to spend the
morning in visiting antiquities and collections of paint-
ings.^ After an early dinner one slept till six.'* In the
evening one gave one's self up to amusement.^ Even
Smollett made the round of the galleries. "If I was
silly enough to make a parade," says he, "I might men-
tion some hundred more of marbles and pictures, which
I really saw at Rome, and even eke out that number
with a huge list of those I did not see."" One of the
greatest of the galleries was the famous Borghese col-
lection, comprising "seventeen hundred original pictures,
which arc reckoned worth several millions of money." ^

These and other sights one might view in a casual way
with no comprehensive programme in hand. But Rome,
more than any other city of Italy, demanded special
preparation of the sight-seer. There was a conventional
list of things to do. Misson enumerates forty-eight classes
of objects that the conscientious tourist should endeavor
to view.^ He presents also an alphabetical list of the
one hundred and seven most notable palaces of Rome,''
with their situation,^" and adds seventy-one more in an
uncommcntcd list, ending with an "etc."

But, to aid in selecting the most important, he recom-
mends that "a traveller who intends not to stay above
two or three months at Rome should immediately after
his arrival chuse a skilful antiquary, and fix certain times
with him to visit the principal rarities of that famous
city." ^^ "What is called a regular course with an Anti-
quarian," says Dr. Moore, "generally takes up about six
weeks; employing three hours a day, you may, in that
time, visit all the churches, palaces, villas, and ruins,
worth seeing, in or near Rome."^'^

Some of the antiquaries appear to have given very good

322

ITALY

satisfaction. On June i8, 1768, the young Earl of Carlisle
writes to Sclwyn: "I shall have finished Rome in three
weeks more, so as to have seen everything perfectly,
and the principal things twice or three times. I am out
on this business seven or eight hours a day, which, for
a continuance, would be very fatiguing to any one less
eager than myself. My ciceroni [!] here, Mr. Harrison,
who is a very good man, and a very instructing one in
a particular branch of knowledge, was to have set out
for England when I had finished Rome. As I should
otherwise have been alone till I had met Charles at Stras-
burgh, I shall make him go with me. We shall see a great
many places together on oiu: way, particularly Perugia,
Venice, Verona, Padua, etc., etc., which will make this
journey much more agreeable to me." ^

But the multiplication of tourists called into existence
a swarm of local guides whose competence left much
to be desired. Most of these fellows spoke English, or
what by courtesy passed for English, and with undaunted
confidence they fastened themselves upon the tourist,
often before he had alighted at his inn, offering to ex-
plain everything worth seeing in the city.^ Against
these cormorants travelers were repeatedly warned:
"There are," says Northall, "a set of people in Rome
distinguished by the appellation of Antiquarians, who
offer themselves to strangers of quality, to serve them
as guides in surveying the curiosities of the place. Too
many of our young English noblemen have been de-
ceived and imposed upon by these persons, especially
if not competent judges in paintings and antiquities.
These Antiquarians will make such novices believe a copy
to be an original of Raphael, Angelo, Titian, or some
other great master, which they purchase at an extrava-
gant price, and procure a handsome premium from both
buyer and seller." ^

Most of these so-called guides were, indeed, impudent
charlatans, who, relying upon their knowledge of local
topography, obtruded their ignorance of art, architecture,

2>^Z

ITALY

and history upon travelers in search of trustworthy in-
formation, and by mumbling over the rigmaroles that
they had learned destroj'^ed half the pleasure of one's
sight-seeing. Breval speaks feelingly of the incompe-
tence of the official conductors of parties through the
Vatican. "It is a discouraging Enterprize to digest in my
Head, for Instance, all that I have seen in only one
Afternoon's Visit to the Vatican, especially as I have
put myself under the Conduct of an ignorant subor-
dinate Officer, or Groom, of the Chambers, whose Busi-
ness it is to earn his Testoon as fast as he can, and hiu-ry
away to the next Set of Customers." ^ And Duclos re-
marks that most of the ciccrones at Rome were no better
than the valets of the hotels garnis at Paris that showed
the city to strangers.^

Tourists of some independence might dispense alto-
gether with professional guides and rely upon the tourist
hand-books — Misson's or Nugcnt's or De La Lande's —
or one of the numerous local guide-books.^ Even when one
hired an antiquary, such an aid was worth while. "The
usual method," says Northall, "is to purchase a little use-
ful book, called, a guide to strangers, which points out and
describes most of the places and curiosities in and about
Rome." "

Critical tourists followed the advice of Nugent: "'Tis
proper also to be provided with maps, measures, prospec-
tive glasses, a mariner's compass and quadrant, and to be
able to take the dimensions of things." ^ Commonly, no
great result followed the use of this learned apparatus, but
the tourist could flatter himself that he was engaged in
original antiquarian research, and he could at all events
give thereby a learned air to his notebook.

We must, indeed, not forget that by far the larger pro-
portion of the visitors to Rome were pleasure-seekers, who
were ready to give themselves considerable trouble to see the
sights included in the usual round, but who were consider-
ably relieved when their labors were at an end. With
rare exceptions, the young fellows who were making the

324

ITALY

grand tour under the guidance of a tutor brought no
critical insight into what they saw, and they carried away
from Rome a confused memory of drives through a laby-
rinth of narrow streets, of visits to a host of churches and
museums and galleries, of dull conversazioni, where they
could understand only half of what was said. But they
could hardly forget the great arches of broken aqueducts
stretching across the desolate Campagna, the yellow Tiber
rolling past the castle of St. Angelo, the burst of sunlight
through the top of the Pantheon, the huge mass of the
CoHseum, or the view of the swelling dome of St. Peter's
as seen from the Pincian Hill. Memorable, too, were the
excursions to Hadrian's Villa and the cascades of Tivoli, to
the Alban Lake, to Frascati, to Tusculum, to Palestrina.

Delightful as it was, Rome could not claim the attention
of any but exceptional tourists for more than a few weeks,
commonly six or eight, and then preparation must be made
for the trip to Naples or for the return northward.

IX

The journey from Rome to Naples afforded the leisurely
tourist abundant opportunity, not merely to view some of
the most exquisite scenery in Italy, but to visit ancient
towns, in so far as he had not already done so in the excur-
sions from Rome. But the ordinary tourist was at the
mercy of his vetturino, and caught only fleeting glimpses on
the way — here of an ancient tomb or the ruins of a villa,
there of a rugged castle or of a white village on a hill. As
for the road itself, it left much to be desired, » whether one
went through Terracina and Fondi or farther east by
Monte Cassino.

Of the two or three halting-places on the way, one of
the most usual was Capua.^ But the vast ruined amphi-
theater and other ancient remains at Santa Maria di Capua
Vetere, three or four miles farther south, made a pitiful
contrast with the squalid modem town that had grown up
about them. One was here beset by beggars and by vendors

325

ITALY

of medals and coins dug up in the neighborhood — mostly
the refuse that could not be sold to critical collectors.

A few miles farther on was Caserta. In the second half of
the century, after the construction of the huge royal palace,
one of the most imposing in Europe, tourists often paused
here to see the Italian Versailles and to compare it with
its French prototype. From Caserta to Naples was a
matter of but a few hours.

The liveliest and noisiest city in Italy was undoubtedly
Naples. This unique city, with its more than three hun-
dred thousand inhabitants, and its forty thousand half-
naked lazzaroni living in the streets, presented an endless
variety of pictures strangely unlike anything to be seen in
England. The din of the narrow thoroughfares was deaf-
ening and incessant; it began before dawn with the bray-
ing of asses and the bleating of goats, and continued until
late at night with the rumbling of carts, the cries of hawk-
ers, and the never-ceasing bray of the undaunted asses.
Yet tourists of all types found a peculiar charm ^ in this
noisy, dirty city. Wright called it the finest city in Italy ; ^
Nugent, "the pleasantest place in Europe";^ and the
usually not too enthusiastic Dr. Moore regarded it, inde-
pendently of "its happy situation," as "a very beautiful
city." *

No competent modem tourist counts the buildings of
Naples that antedate the nineteenth century as preeminent
for beauty. On the contrary, he is likely to regard most
of them not only as dingy and mean, but as tawdry speci-
mens of debased architecture. The modern point of view
already appears in the comments of Mariana Starke at the
close of the eighteenth century: "The extreme bad taste
which pervades almost every building induces travellers to
prefer Rome, even in her present mutilated state, to all
the gaiety of Naples." ^

Far more flattering to Naples is the estimate of earlier
tourists. Evelyn writes with enthusiasm of the cathedral
as "a most magnificent pile"; and adds that, "except St.
Peter's in Rome, Naples exceeds all cities for stately

326

ITALY

churches and monasteries. ' ' ^ And he goes on to say : " The
building of the city is for the size the most magnificent of
any in Europe." ^

Eighteenth-century tourists are not less lavish in their
praise, though Northall points out that Naples has been
"so often ruined by invasions that few remains of antiquity
are found in it." » Yet even Northall does not hesitate to
say: "If Naples is not above half as big as Paris or Lon-
don, yet it hath much more beauty than either of them." '»
And a little eariier he remarks: " It is observed of this city,
that though Rome and Florence may excel it in the mag-
nificence of their churches, palaces, and other public edi-
fices, yet their streets and private houses are generally
mean and contemptible, if compared to those of Naples,
where the buildings are more uniform and regular, and
almost all the houses btdlt in a grand manner; the streets
long, strait, spacious. . . . The street named Toledo
excels most in Europe for its length and breadth." ^

It is, indeed, a striking commentary on eighteenth-cen-
tury standards that so many travelers single out the Strada
di Toledo as ' ' the finest street they have ever seen. ' ' ^ Even
the critical De Brosses says that it is certainly the longest
and handsomest street in any city of Europe,^ but he ad-
mits that it has half a foot of mud and two rows of infa-
mous shops and butchers' stalls that extend all the length
of the street and mask the houses. Most of the other streets
are narrow and mean. Notwithstanding these drawbacks,
Naples is, in his opinion, the only city in Italy that really
has the air of a capital.^

But whatever was to be said of the city itself, there
could be but one judgment on the enchanting situation.
The Bay of Naples was unrivaled for beauty in Italy; and
Naples was the only great city in Europe with an active
volcano at her very gates. "Naples," says Goethe, "is a
paradise: in it every one lives in a sort of intoxicated self-
forgetfulness. It is even so with me; I scarcely know my-
self — I seem quite an altered man." *
In this paradise the conditions were, nevertheless, not

327

ITALY

entirely paradisaical. The standard of honesty was low, and
the scheming shopkeeper looked upon an unwary tourist as
the wolf looks upon the lamb. At night the streets were
unlighted and dangerous, with only dim lights before the
madonnas. 1 Many other matters were far from ideal.
The illiteracy was appalling. ' ' Two in a hundred can read, ' '
says Dupaty.2 Beggars "covered with rags and filth"
were omnipresent and pertinacious, crowding in shoals into
the coffee-houses and driven by the waiters into the street
every five minutes.^ The lazzaroni, says Moore, "strip
themselves before the houses that front the bay, and bathe
themselves in the sea without the smallest ceremony."
During the heat of the day " those stout athletic figures "
might be "seen walking and sporting on the shore per-
fectly naked, and with no more idea of shame than Adam
felt in his state of innocence; while the ladies from their
coaches and the servant maids and young girls " would
" contemplate this singular spectacle with as little apparent
emotion as the ladies in Hyde Park behold a review of the
horse guards." ^ Conditions so primitive were slightly dis-
concerting to English tourists. But these undraped paupers
were in one respect superior to the beggars of London —
they were sober. The hard drinking there so common was
very rare at Naples, and a drunken man or woman was
scarcely ever seen in the streets.^

Notwithstanding the size of Naples, it was "difficult to
find lodgings fit to receive a gentleman." Evelyn had
stayed at the Three Kings, where he enjoyed "the most
plentiful fare," seldom sitting "down to fewer than eight-
een or twenty dishes of exqmsite meat and fruits." ^ Yet,
says Sharp, more than a century later, "Except the house
where I am, and another just by it, there are only two in-
different houses of reception in all Naples, whither strangers
resort."^ Good water was "a scarce commodity at
Naples," and the air in some quarters was thought to be
dangerous for persons with weak lungs. ^

To occupy one's time at Naples was not very difficult.
Besides the endless panorama of the streets there were

328

ITALY

excursions to Posilipo, to Virgil's tomb, to Baiae, to
Passtum, to Capri, and, as the crowning attraction of all,
to Vesuvius. The ascent of the volcano was usually
counted as a tourist's duty that must not be shirked.
But the Earl of Carlisle, writing to Selwyn, confesses, "If
I had not been ashamed to have gone away from Naples
without going up, I should certainly not have given myself
the trouble." ^

Pffistum, with its array of ancient temples rivaled only
by those of Girgenti, was an especially favorite excursion
for tourists from Naples. "To-day," says Dupaty, "Paes-
tum is not inhabited, so to speak, except by French, English,
and Russian travellers, and not by Neapolitans." ^ The
natives, indeed, gave little attention to such sight-seeing.
"All the Neapolitans in general bestow great contempt on
the strangers whose curiosity prompts them to ascend
Mount Vesuvius, and scarcely one among a hundred of
them can be found who has been upon that mountain.
Few have ever seen Portici or Pompeii." ^

After the discovery and partial excavation of Hercu-
laneum and Pompeii, tourists, however, flocked to see the
ruins. Mariana Starke visited Pompeii * late in the cen-
tury; and in her itemized list of expenses she notes: "To
the man who throws water on the paintings, one or two
carlini — to the guide, one ducat." ^ Comparatively little
of either of the buried cities was to be seen, and that little
was not very intelligently investigated. The main purpose
of the eighteenth-century excavation was not to study the
conditions of ancient life so marvelously preserved to our
day, but to discover curiosities, art treasures, and other
valuables.

Many tourists at Naples were so bent upon sight-seeing
that the few days at their disposal were overcrowded. But
those with more leisure found society in Naples peculiarly
agreeable and freely open to strangers who were properly
introduced. Neapolitan hospitality was not, however, of
the English type. Sharp, as is his wont on most matters,
makes a sweeping assertion concerning the Neapolitan

329

ITALY

traditions concerning entertainment: "It is not usual
here to dine or sup at each others' houses, and there are
some who never do, except only on Christmas Day, or, per-
haps, during the week; nay, they are, in general, so unac-
customed to entertain one another, that the greater num-
ber seldom receive their friends but upon weddings, deaths,
and lyings in." ^ Yet the nobility of Naples invited guests
to their tables much more generally than was the case in
other cities of Italy ,2 though this need not be taken to indi-
cate widely extended hospitality.

On this matter Sharp observes: "There are some, who,
when they entertain, give the most splendid, expensive,
and elegant dinners that can be imagined. The Prince of
Franca Villa keeps a kind of open table every night, with
twelve or fourteen covers, where the English of any figure
are at all times received with the greatest politeness." '
Somewhat later he returns to the same theme: "There
are not, as I have said, many of the nobility who keep any
kind of open table; but those who do, never fail to invite
such English whose quality, connections, or recommenda-
tory letters, render them proper company for people of the
first rank. The Prince of Villa Franca closed the carnival
last week with a splendid dinner (perhaps more splendid
than you see in London) provided for eighteen guests, ten
of which were the English Gentlemen on their travels." *

From 1764 to 1800, Sir William Hamilton was British
Envoy at the Court of Naples, and, like Sir Horace Mann
at Florence, counted it a large part of his duty to show
courtesy to his countrymen and to distinguished strangers
from other lands. He took De La Lande up Mount
Vesuvius in 1765.^ Throughout his long stay Sir WilHam's
house was popular with English visitors. Even as early as
1765 he used to receive company every evening, much to
the pleasure of the English. " It is the custom, ' ' says Sharp,
"when neither the opera, nor any particular engagements
prevent, to meet at his house, where we amuse ourselves
as we are disposed, either at cards, the billiard-table, or his
little concert; some form themselves into small parties of

330

ITALY

conversation, and as the members of this society are often
Ambassadors, Nuncios, Monsignoris, Envoys, Residents,
and the first quality of Naples, you will conceive it to be
instructive as well as honourable." ^ Even more attractive
was the envoy's house after 1786, when the beauty and
charm of Lady Emma Hamilton made it the most brilliant
social center in Naples.

Moral standards were not absurdly high in Neapolitan
society, but as was the case in Paris, conventions regulat-
ing dress and manners were rigid in the gay Southern capi-
tal. A gentleman would not dare, says Dupaty, to appear
in the streets on foot in the evening; he would be disgraced. 2
Fortunately, carriages were cheap enough to impose no
great expense upon those who knew the tariff.^ Servants,
too, were very cheap ; and no lady drove out without run-
ning footmen as a part of her equipage.^

One could easily and delightfully drift along for a whole
social season at Naples, now at the theater, where the
clergy, the monks not excepted, went like all the rest of the
world; now at the opera, with its inevitable ballet; now
on the promenade; now at the Academy. But whoever
mingled in society was obliged to turn night into day.
Fashionable gatherings did not break up until five o'clock
in the morning.^ Playing for high stakes was a favorite
diversion at Naples. Young Charles James Fox found
ample opportunity there for lightening his purse. "When
he sailed from Naples on his homeward journey, he left his
father poorer, it is said, by sixteen thousand pounds." ^

Tovuists who were swept into the social whirl had little
leisure for serious study at Naples, but even the idlers com-
monly saw the most famous classical localities on their
pleasure excursions and carried back to Rome an unforget-
table memory of this land of the lotus — the ancient city
rising tier on tier to the grim fortress of Saint-Elmo; the
wreathing smoke of Vesuvius ; and, far down the Bay,
enchanting Capri closing the view to the south.

331

ITALY

X

With the approach of the warm season the tourist,
as a rule, made his way back from Naples and took leave
of Rome to begin the long return journey. If he had
come down through Florence and Siena, he was very
likely to follow the road up the east coast through Lor-
etto, Ancona, Rimini, and possibly Ravenna, then visit-
ing some of the cities of the Lombard plain or proceeding
to Venice for the festivities of Ascension. On this por-
tion of the trip we need not linger, but we may spare a
few words for two or three places, and first for Loretto.
English tourists very frequently went to Loretto and
gazed in wonder at the treasure heaped up there. Their
comments, as might be expected from Protestants, were
usually somewhat scornful. Prompted by Misson's
"New Voyage to Italy," they remarked upon the beads
that were bought and rubbed against the Santa Casa,
and "against all the madonnas drawn by St. Luke, and
some other most holy relics, as the pease which sprouted
in the issue St. Francis had in his neck, which have such
virtue that no devil can stand it." '

In a place so overcrowded with strangers as Loretto
there was bound to be extortion. "The innkeepers,"
says Keysler, "are for imposing as much as they can
upon strangers; but the entertainment is here generally
very good." ^ He might also have added that it was some-
times sufficiently penitential. In his usual satirical vein
Dr. Moore remarks: "The innkeepers do not disturb the
devotion of the pilgrims by the luxuries of either bed or
board. I have not seen worse accommodations since I
entered Italy than at the inn here." '

Some amends were made at Ancona, which hospi-
tably welcomed tourists who could afford the time for
social festivities. Baretti extols the courtesy of the in-
habitants. They are "liberal of their dinners to many
strangers, and especially the English, of whom they
are enamoured to a degree of enthusiasm." ^ Ancona

332

MAUSOLEUM OF THEODORIC AT RAVENNA

ITALY

boasted its Roman triumphal arch and its cathedral with
ancient Roman columns. But the si^^hts of Ancona were
of small account to tourists fresh from Rome.

Fano, Pcsaro, Rimini, the excursion to San Marino —
of which Addison gives an interesting account — afforded
attractions for a variety of tastes, but only occasional
tourists took much interest in anything besides the Roman
remains, such as the arch at Fano and the arch and the
bridge at Rimini.

Nor did they especially appreciate Ravenna. This an-
cient city, with its unique array of churches and wall
mosaics dating from the earliest Middle Ages, has for
travelers of our time a peculiar fascination. But the at-
titude of eighteenth-century tourists was somewhat con-
descending, if not contemptuous. The famous botanist
John Ray was there in the .seventeenth century and was
not favorably impressed. "This place has scarce any
thing to boast of now but its antiquity, being very ill
peopled, ill .serv'd with fish, notwithstanding its vicinity
to the sea, ill provided with inns, and worse with water." ^
More than three quarters of a century later Nugent
found "the buildings . . . generally mean, the place
but thinly peopled, and its trade entirely lost." ^ In his
"Grand Tour," however, he devotes two and a half
pages to the city, which was recognized as a place to be
visited. Professional guides conducted strangers to the
chief points of interest. One of these "was the Rotonda
(a little church so called from its figure) without the
walls." * This was the famous mausoleum of Theodoric
the Great, surmounted by a single block of marble weighing
four hundred and seventy tons. Byron made a consider-
able stay at Ravenna. But, in general, eighteenth-
century tourists not particularly interested in Byzantine
art agreed with Dr. Moore, that Ravenna was "a disagree-
able town," and commended the brevity of his account:
"The ruins of his (Theodoric's) palace and his tomb now
form part of the antiquities of Ravenna; among which I
shall not detain you a moment." ^

333

ITALY

The tourist who had made the round of Italy that we
have outlined had seen enough to satisfy ordinary curios-
ity, and was ready to turn to other fields, either to ex-
tend his journey into the German Empire or to enlarge
his acquaintance with France. In making his way out
through northern Italy, if he paid a second visit to Venice
or Milan or Tiuin, his stay was commonly not very pro-
tracted. His most likely move, as already remarked, was
to bring up at Venice in time for Ascension and the fetes
of that brilliant season.

334

CHAPTER XIII

GERMANY

It is unnecessary to follow the tourist farther in Italy,
and obviously impossible to anticipate the route by
which he might take his departure. On his way back
to England, however, he not uncommonly planned to
see something of Germany,^ though Germany as a whole
attracted relatively few visitors in comparison with
France and Italy. It was not until the nineteenth century
that the flood of English travel began to set strongly
in the direction of Germany, and even then, in most cases,
the acquaintance with any portions except the Rhine and
a few leading cities was strangely superficial.

In the eighteenth centiury the German tour could,
of course, be made, and often was made, in the earlier
part of one's survey of the Continent. But since the tour
through Germany was not regarded as so essential a
part of the traveler's duty as the tour in France and
Italy, it was more commonly reserved for the end.

Germany as a whole stood more or less out of relation
with the interests of the average Englishman, and that,
too, notwithstanding the close political connection of
England with the House of Hanover. With the rarest
exceptions, the English totirist knew little about German
art, architecture, or literature, and he was inclined to
look with some contempt upon the plain German people.
In all solid attainments the Germans were unsiirpassed by
any people in Europe. But they were not preeminent
for the social graces that distinguished the French — tact,
ease, delicacy of taste, repartee. German society was
hampered by a superabundance of conventional cere-

335

GERMANY

mony. The very solidity of German scholarship did
not make for lightness of touch in conversation. But
some of these social defects were more than compensated
by sterling virtues, and in particular by the sincerity that
is still so engaging a trait of German character. The
English and the Germans have long had every reason for
the closest association and sympathy, but even in our
time the two peoples hardly understand each other.

Still, even in the eighteenth century, a considerable
number of English tourists saw more or less of Germany.
The toiuist who made his exit from Italy through Tiirin
went by way of Susa over Mont Cenis. Not infrequently
he passed through Chambery and Annecy to Geneva,
and thence, perhaps, through Basel and Strassburg down
the Rhine. Another important route ran up from Milan
through Como, Lugano, Bellinzona, Giornico, Airolo,
and thence over the Saint Gotthard Pass to Altorf and
Lucerne,^ whence exit to the north was easy. But, ac-
cording to Nugent, the pleasantest and more frequented
route into Germany was through Trent and Botzen,
over the Brenner to Innsbruck. From here one could
go by a well-traveled road to Munich and Augsburg.^

To go from Venice to Vienna, the shortest way was the
carriage road through Mestre, Treviso, Villach, Sankt
Veit, Judenburg, and Knittelfeld, a distance of two
hundred and eighty-six miles. For this journey, says
Nugent, "you may hire a chaise at Mestre for Vienna and
give the vetturino fourteen or fifteen ducats for your pas-
sage, all charges included, or from seven to eight ducats
without including all charges." ^ This route occupied
twelve or thirteen days and offered little to satisfy one's
curiosity.^ Nugent recommends, therefore, the post-road
to Vienna by way of Mestre, Palma, Laibach, Cilli, and
Gratz, as affording "much the best accommodation
for travellers." ^ One could vary this second route " by
taking ship at Venice for Trieste" and going thence by
land to Laibach and Vienna.

Once arrived in Germany the tourist found it prudent,

336

GERMANY

if he cared for his comfort, to confine his journey to the
main routes. And this simple fact seriously limited
the range of his knowledge of the country.

II

It is extremely difficult to generalize about Germany in
the eighteenth century, so great were the differences
between adjacent districts and even adjacent towns.
For the passing stranger, ignorant of the language and
unable to determine what was typical and what was ex-
ceptional, the task was wholly beyond his powers.

Germany in our time easily takes its place in the front
rank of the nations of the world — in scholarship, in com-
mercial enterprise, in military might. In the eighteenth
century, as we have elsewhere seen, Germany as a whole
suffered from arrested development. The great indus-
tries, which in our time have brought wealth to Diissel-
dorf and Elberfeld and Essen and Leipsic and Nurem-
berg and Berlin, were not even in their infancy. Portions
of Germany — especially the agricultural districts —
were desperately poor, but, as might be expected in a
coiuitry where in the course of an afternoon drive one
might be in the dominions of two or three independent
petty sovereigns, the contrasts were very sharp. Early
in the century Lady Mary Wortley Montagu remarked:
" 'Tis impossible not to observe the difference between
the free towns and those under the government of abso-
lute princes, as all the little sovereigns of Germany are.
In the first, there appears an air of commerce and plenty.
The streets are well built, and full of people, neatly and
plainly dressed. The shops are loaded with merchandise,
and the commonality are clean and cheerful. In the
other, you see a sort of shabby finery, a number of dirty
people of quality tawdered out; narrow, nasty streets out
of repair, wretchedly thin of inhabitants, and above
half of the common sort asking alms." ^

Estimates of Germany naturally varied widely accord-

337

GERMANY

ing to the point of view and the opportunities of the
tourist. Very flattering is the account of Dr. Edward
Browne, son of the author of "ReHgio Medici," in the
last third of the seventeenth century: " Now I must confess
that after I had taken so full a view of Germany, I found
it quite different from the conceptions I had formed of
it myself. . . . 'Tis true, France has many fine cities
and seaports, yet they do not come up in number to
those in Germany, and I much question whether it has
any places that exceed Hamburgh, Lubeck, Dantzick,
Bremen, etc. Besides which, the whole country is full of
populous towns, great villages, strong castles, seats of
persons of quality, delicious plants, forests, and pleasant
woods. Nay, Germany affords even under ground mines
of gold, silver, copper, iron, tin, lead, quicksilver, anti-
mony, coal, salt, stdphur, cadmia, etc., and is full of the
best artificers to work in them. Add to this the easy con-
versation of the people, who are great lovers of strangers
and honest in their dealings. The women are generally
well complexioned, of a sober behaviour, faithful to their
husbands, and good housewives." '

German cities made, as a rule, a very favorable im-
pression upon tourists. Nugent sweepingly declares:
"There are no better buildings in Europe, out of Italy,
than those of Germany. The town-houses are far more
magnificent than those of other countries; and most of
the palaces and cathedrals being Gothic, they discover
a grand though irregular taste." ^

In the eighteenth century Germany was on the whole
more picturesque than it now is. The onward march
of civilization has swept away many a decayed medieval
building, and many an old social usage that still lingered
harmlessly a century and a half ago. In many places
the ancient costumes were still wom,^ where now is the
dull uniformity made possible by the cheap department
store.

But notwithstanding all the inducements in Germany
to lure the traveler onward, — the variety of scenery,

338

GERMANY

the picturesque architecture, the historic associations of
the cities, and the active social life in the great centers,
— few tourists became thoroughly acquainted with more
than a small portion of the German Empire. The guide-
books duly described the principal cities, but English
tourists rarely visited them with the interest that they
bestowed upon the cities of France and Italy. English-
men found agreeable entertainment in a few representa-
tive centers, such as Hamburg, Berlin, Frankfort, Munich,
Dresden, Prague, Vienna, the Rhine cities, Leipsic, Han-
over; but in the medieval architecture of Nuremberg,
Hildesheim, Rothenburg, and similar medieval towns, now
the delight of lovers of the picturesque, they took com-
paratively little interest.

Smaller towns that chanced to lie upon the route they
commonly saw rapidly, but they deviated little from
the main highways for the sake of getting a more inti-
mate acquaintance with the rural districts. For this
neglect there was considerable excuse. The typical
English village, with its great elms and oaks, its thatched
cottages, its stately manor-houses, its well-kept green
beside the ivy-covered church, had comparatively few
counterparts in Germany. The German village was too
often an ill-kept, malodorous, single street, with squalid
houses built close to the unpaved road, in which ducks
and swine found a congenial abiding-place. Naturally
enough, then, the English tourist, almost invariably
ignorant of German and acquainted with only an in-
significant fraction of the country, seldom shows an
intelligent appreciation of Germany and the German
people. As a rule, he compares Germany with England,
much to his own satisfaction. The homely, bourgeois
character of a great part of the country, with the odd
manners and the abundance of beer and tobacco, sausage
and sauerkraut, is what appears most to impress the
stranger. He notes that women lack taste in dress and
that they carry their knitting to the theater.

In this sort of observation, so common in books of

339

GERMANY

travel, there was a measure of truth. The German ap-
petite was excellent ; the German standard of taste in dress
was not exactly Parisian ; and plain living made necessary
by small incomes was the rule. The marvelous advance
of Prussia in military strength and in the arts of peace
under Frederick the Great even the hastiest tourist was
bound to notice, but of the multitude of states that made
up Germany most Englishmen had only the most super-
ficial knowledge. At all events, such a familiarity with
the country as any persistent traveler with a compe-
tent knowledge of German can now gain in a few months,
was extremely rare.

We see, then, that of the countries included in the con-
ventional grand tour, Germany was the one with which
the average tourist gained the least accurate acquaintance.
Through the medium of his bad French he possibly learned
at first-hand some items of interest about cities and towns
from Germans of the upper classes. But his lack of acquain-
tance with the vernacular made him entirely incompetent
to gather information from the rank and file of the people,
or even to pronounce correctly the names of the towns he
passed through.^

Naturally, he had no acquaintance whatever with German
literature. Even as late as 1824, Carljde remarked in the
Preface to his translation of "Wilhelm Meister": "Hith-
erto our literary intercourse with that nation has been
very slight and precarious." And Leslie Stephen has
sho\sm in detail how painfully slow Englishmen were in
getting a working acquaintance with the German language.
In the eighteenth century they could therefore hardly dis-
cern signs of promise in a literature they could not read.

English toiirists may, indeed, be pardoned for neglect-
ing to acquire a knowledge of German, when Germans of
high social standing "considered it as an accomplishment
to be imable to express themselves in the language of their
country," and took pains to keep their children ignorant of
their native tongue so that it might not hurt their pronun-
ciation of French.^ Riesbeck comments very freely upon

340

GERMANY

the German nobles, upon their extravagance, their "ridic-
ulous passion for titles," their fondness for horses, equi-
pages, and servants, and upon the advantage to themselves
"if they could bring over from France something more be-
coming than a stiff carriage, an affected walk, a taste
for gaming, and a wretched jargon." ' Tourists found,
even after the middle of the century, that one book out of
every ten printed in Germany was in French.

It is true, too, that the great period of German literature
is subsequent to the period that chiefly occupies us. But
with Gellert and Klopstock and Hagedom and Wieland
and Lessing, there was already a brilliant beginning —
altogether unsuspected by the passing tourist. It is, in-
deed, a significant fact that until after the French Revolu-
tion English literature, apart from a few hymns, owes little
or nothing to German. In Germany, on the other hand, in
the second half of the eighteenth century, English literature
received much attention, and sometimes it was preferred
to French.2 In cultured society, particularly at Dresden
and Hamburg, English tourists were agreeably surprised
to be addressed now and then in tolerable English, though
French remained the conventional language of courtiers and
hotel waiters until the nineteenth century was well ad-
vanced.^

For the middle of the eighteenth century Nugent sums
up the linguistic situation in a few words: "Latin and
French are the most useful for those that travel through
Germany, most people of any common education being
acquainted with one of these two languages. For a German
that understands only his mother-tongue is looked on as a
person that has not common breeding; neither is it enough
for him to understand Latin : the knowledge of the French
tongue is also requisite, if he designs to pass for one that
has had a polite education. Hence it comes, that there is
no country in the world where there is such a vast number
of masters of language, especially for the French, who pick
up a very comfortable living. Numbers of them, particu-
larly in the south part of Germany, pique themselves also

341

GERMANY

for understanding Italian; and even the English tongue of
late has begun to be cultivated, especially in Upper and
Lower Saxony." ^

English tourists could, doubtless, with no great difficulty,
get on after a fashion in Germany. But most Englishmen
had little curiosity for what was most characteristic. The
very features of the older Germany that make it peculiarly
attractive to toiuists in our time were largely repellent to
tourists of the eighteenth century. As a result, the great
stream of English travel flowed rapidly through the ordinary
channels and took little with it.

As already observed, all that particularly interested the
eighteenth-century tourist was to be found in the towns
and cities. And this was natural. Germany, taken as a
whole, was poor, and only in the cities and in the numerous
little courts did evidence of wealth appear. The rural
hamlets and the houses of the peasantry were, as a rule,
destitute of comfort. But in the great towns, like Hamburg
and Frankfort-on-the-Main and Leipsic and Dresden and
Berlin, notwithstanding the prevailing standards of plain
living, many representatives of the middle classes had
risen in wealth and influence, and were fond of luxury and
display. In some cases they had eagerly given themselves
to the delights of literature and philosophy. Those who
were just below the nobility in rank had, indeed, copied the
fashions and the vices of their social superiors ; but, as never
before since the Revival of Learning, a multitude of men
and women of position and influence were devoted to culture.
At the universities, particularly at Gottingen and Leipsic
and Jena, there was a strange new life. In the highest
circles, too, culture became the fashion, — not merely in
the circle surrounding Frederick the Great, but in scores of
little courts scattered about the country, — Weimar, Gotha,
Anspach, Darmstadt, Meiningen.

But this intense intellectual activity was by no means
uniformly distributed. While the Protestant states of the
North were thrilling with the new spirit, the Catholic
states of the South were relatively apathetic. And then,

342

GERMANY

too, throughout the country the old inherited divisions
between the ranks of society made close relations between
the nobility and the commercial classes — whatever their
intellectual attainments — the exception rather than the
rule. In some cases German princes and nobles seemed to
brush aside all distinctions of rank and to associate on
equal terms with scholars and men of letters, but such
condescension, however genuine and honorable, was by^no
means a matter of course.

The truth is, that all German higher society, like the
society of France and Italy, was extremely artificial. But
in greater measure than any other part of Europe com-
monly visited by tourists Germany dehghted in elaborate
ceremony, in petty dignities, in high-sounding titles, which
could not be omitted without causing a social cataclysm.
Until the sentimentaHsm of the Werther period — after
1774 — brought in its train for a time a sort of artificial
return to simplicity in dress and manners, well-to-do so-
ciety was tightly held in the bands of a rigid conven-
tionality.

Into society such as this the English tourist in Germany
came, and, if properly introduced, commonly received a
warm welcome. Riesbeck comments upon the amazing
popularity of the EngHsh in Germany about 1780. The
Mecklenburghers especially, says he, have a fondness and
veneration for them that approaches to superstition.^
Germans in the eighteenth century were still true to their
ancient reputation as good providers; and their hospi-
tality imposed upon a guest no light burden. "Their en-
tertainments," says Nugent, "are perfect banquets, where
they are full of their ceremonies, and so prodigal of their
liquor and provisions as to give rather uneasiness than
pleasure to their guests." ^

III

After this rapid survey of the conditions of life in Ger-
many, we may now glance at a few, and only a few, repre-

343

GERMANY

sentative German cities that English tourists were likely
to see, — at least in passing. . These cities, needless to say,
have in most cases been greatly changed in the course of
a century or more. In our day by far the greater propor-
tion of German cities have long since transformed their
ancient encircling defenses into well-shaded promenades.
In the middle of the eighteenth century, we are told: "Al-
most all the towns in Germany have old fortifications, which
consist only of a wall or rampart faced with brick, a trench
ftdl of water, and gates defended by half moons ; but few are
able to hold out a siege." ^ But even to-day, notwithstand-
ing the amazing transformations of the last half -century,
one still finds in the older portions of Braunschweig, of
Hildesheim, of Nuremberg, of Augsburg, of Karlsruhe, of
Vienna, and of scores of other towns, the very streets, al-
most unchanged, that met the view of the eighteenth-cen-
tury tourist. Many cities in Germany a century and a half
ago had much the same relative importance that they have
to-day, but the modem industrial revolution has greatly
enlarged and strangely metamorphosed some towns that
in the eighteenth century hardly existed on the map.

Where to begin and where to end our survey of German
cities cannot be arbitrarily prescribed, but if we take the
eighteenth-century tourist as our guide, we must in any
case single out three or four cities in Austrian territory for
special mention and reserve our remaining space for some
of the most notable cities within the limits of the present
German Empire.

The tourist going from Italy over the Brenner was bound
to visit Innsbruck, charmingly situated on the Inn, with
the mountain wall guarding the little city. Some of the
arcaded streets with their stately houses reminded him of
Italy. Here he was certain to see the famous Golden Roof
and in the Hofkirche the wonderful monument of Kaiser
Maximilian I, with its array of life-size bronze statues.
With a little effort he could also visit Castle Amras in the
vicinity and see the great collection of artistic objects that
are now among the chief treasures of Vienna.

344

GERMANY

From Innsbruck one could take the very rough coaching-
road to Augsburg, a distance of ninety-four miles, and pro-
ceed thence through Donauworth and Nuremberg to
Hamburg. But as that plan would leave out Vienna, the
tourist frequently went direct from Venice to Vienna, by
one of the routes already outlined.

The influence of Vienna was greater than its size would
appear to warrant. Baron Riesbeck about 1780 ranked
it in population along with Naples, but after Constanti-
nople, London, and Paris. Few cities in Europe were more
attractive to the tourist. The care-free temper of the Aus-
trian capital made the pleasure-seeking traveler feel in-
stantly at home. "Vienna," says Sherlock, "is perhaps the
best city in Europe to teach a young traveller the manners
of the great world : at his arrival he will be introduced into
all the best houses; and if he is an EngHshman, he will
meet with the most flattering reception. "^ And even the
usually cynical Dr. Moore says with enthusiasm: "I im-
agine there is no city in Europe where a young gentleman,
after his university education is finished, can pass a year
with so great advantage; because, if properly recom-
mended, he may mix on an easy footing with people of
rank and have opportunities of improving by the conver-
sation of sensible men and accomplished women. In no
capital could he see fewer examples, or have fewer oppor-
tunities, of deep gambling, open profligacy, or gross de-
bauchery." 2 Moore's eulogy is surely not stinted. We
may well believe that any one bent upon vicious amuse-
ment would have had no long search in Vienna to find what
he sought. Some tourists even counted it among the most
dissolute cities in Europe.

In general, the atmosphere in the upper ranks of society
was more French than German. French was heard on every
side ; French fashions were the rtde in dress ; ' and French
manners admirably suited the temper of the gay and ex-
travagant throngs that crowded the Viennese salons.
Strangers were impressed with the lavish display of wealth.
"There is no place in the world," says Nugent, "where

345

GERMANY

people live more luxuriously than at Vienna. Their
chief diversion is feasting and carousing, on which occa-
sions they are extremely well served with wine and eatables.
People of fortune will have eighteen or twenty sorts of
wines at their tables, and a note is laid on every plate men-
tioning every sort of wine that may be called for." In the
winter, he remarks, there is much driving about in sledges
of fantastic shapes.^ " In the short time I have been here,"
says Baron Riesbeck, "I have seen more splendid equi-
pages and horses than there are in all Paris. Our fashions
prevail here universally. Dressed dolls are regularly sent
from Paris for the purpose of teaching the women how to
put on their gowns and dress their heads. Even the men
from time to time get memoranda from Paris, and lay
them before their taylors and hair-dressers." ^

In view of the social attractions of Vienna we can well
believe Dr. Moore, when he says: " I never passed my time
more agreeably than since I came to Vienna. There is not
such a constant round of amusements as to fill up a man's
time without any plan or occupation of his own; and yet
there is enough to satisfy any mind not perfectly vacant
and dependent on external objects. — We dine abroad two
or three times a week. We sometimes see a little play, but
never any deep gambling." ^

He might have added that Vienna, though lagging be-
hind in some particulars, was a leader in music and the
drama. One instinctively thinks of Haydn and Mozart and
Metastasio and the other notable names of the little world
that prospered by giving pleasure to others. Vienna shared
with Munich and Dresden the distinction of presenting
Italian opera most brilliantly. And the Vienna theater,
particularly in the last quarter of the century, was famous
throughout Europe.

But Vienna in the eighteenth century, with all its at-
tractions, was by no means the palatial city that one sees
to-day. Then as now the vast cathedral of St. Stephen,
with its lofty spire, dominated the whole region, and there
were other notable structures. But even in the last quar-

346

GERMANY

ter of the century Baron Riesbeck complains: "There are
scarce eight buildings in the whole town which can be
called beautiful or magnificent. . . . The Emperor's pal-
ace is an old black building, that has neither beauty nor
stateliness. . . . There are hardly three squares or places
here which make any figure at all." ^ Where the great
promenades, adorned with some of the stateliest buildings
in Europe, now delight the eye of the tourist, an encircling
wall shut in the narrow and unimpressive streets. The
palaces of the nobility were richly furnished, but with
more expense than taste. One of the most attractive, just
outside the old inner city, was the Liechtenstein Palace,
with its extensive gardens and its great picture gallery,
which to this day is the most notable private collection in
Vienna. The houses of ordinary citizens were "built of
stone, generally five or six stories high." ^ By a singular
provision, "the second floor of every house" was regarded
as the property of the sovereign and assigned to officers
or dependents of the court or to any one else. "This is
the reason," says Nugent, "there is no other part of Ger-
many where lodging is so dear as at Vienna." '

In the eighteenth century the inns of the city had a well-
deserved reputation for being very good but also very
expensive. The best known were The Court of Bavaria, the
Golden Crown, the Black Eagle, the Black Elephant.
Tourists who wished to practice economy were advised to
live in private houses if they intended to make any stay in
the capital.* But lodgings were by no means easy to find:
"I ran about the city," says Baron Riesbeck, "three whole
days with my laquais de place, before I could get housed.
It is not here as at Paris, where there is an office in every
part of the city, giving an account of what houses or
lodgings are to be let, and for what price." ^ Street doors
were locked after ten at night, and any one entering after
that hour was expected to fee the porter — a custom that
has siu^ived to our own time.

The suburbs were more populous than the city,^ but ill-
paved and meanly built. Best worth seeing was the Palace

347

GERMANY

of Schonbninn, with its famous gardens. Most popular
as a pleasure-ground was the great Prater,^ bordering the
Danube, where all the society of Vienna appeared in carved
gilt coaches and, along with throngs of humbler folk,
watched the display of fireworks of a summer evening.

When the tourist had completed the social round and
had explored some of the charming environs of Vienna,
he was usually ready to move toward Munich and Augs-
burg and Nuremberg or toward Prague and Dresden, Leip-
sic and Berlin. An occasional tourist made his way down
the Danube to Pressburg or Buda-Pesth, or even farther,
but the normal tourist did nothing of the sort. If he took
the road toward Munich, he could with a sHght detour see
some of the mountain regions now counted among the most
attractive in Europe. But a century and a half ago the
traveler who delayed among the mountains south of Salz-
burg or in the Tyrol commonly had no great desire to
repeat his experience.

Salzburg was a convenient resting-place, and was
thought to be worth seeing, though it did not afford much
social amusement, as the inhabitants mostly kept aloof
from strangers.2 51^^^ {^ behind its fortifications, the
town, with its high houses built all of stone, was regarded
as "very handsome." And as for the cathedral, a rather
feeble imitation of St. Peter's at Rome, travelers pronounced
it "a magnificent building of freestone, which may be reck-
oned the completest in Germany" I^ Even Baron Ries-
beck thought it the handsomest edifice he had seen since
he left Paris.^ But for the marvelous beauty of the situa-
tion, with the castle-crowned hill behind the city, the glacial
river rushing past the ancient walls, and the mighty Salz-
burg Alps towering in the distance, the eighteenth-century
tourist had far less appreciation than has the tourist of our
day.

On leaving Salzburg, the first place of importance after
entering Bavaria was Munich. Throughout the eight-
eenth century Munich was a small walled city of very
moderate architectural pretensions. Besides the famous

348

GERMANY

Frauenkirche there was comparatively little of special note.
The great transformation which, under Ludwig I and his
successors, has made Munich one of the handsomest cities
of Europe, had not even begun. None of the great mu-
seums or art galleries that are now the glory of the city had
been founded. But tourists of the seventeenth and eight-
eenth centuries lavish praises upon the city. The Elec-
tor's Palace was pronounced a "superb structure." Even
the matter-of-fact Nugent says with enthusiasm: "The
splendour and beauty of its buildings, both public and
private, and the magnificence of its churches and convents
are such that it surpasses anything in Germany for the
bigness." ^

As late as 17 71 the population did not exceed thirty-one
thousand. But the social life at Munich was attractive, —
in some respects too attractive ; ^ and the opportunity to
hear good music, particularly opera, was one of the best in
Germany.

Northwest of Munich a few hours' journey was Augs-
burg, the ancient free imperial city which in the Middle
Ages shared with Nuremberg the great trade between the
north and the south of Europe. The change in trade routes
after the discovery of America, and the devastation of
repeated wars, reduced Augsburg to comparative insignifi-
cance. But tourists on their way up from Munich to
Nuremberg and Frankfort commonly passed through Augs-
burg and saw the principal sights — the stately Maximilian-
strasse, with its fountains, the house of the Fuggers, the
merchant princes of Europe, the ancient cathedral, the
town-house with its famous Golden Hall, and everywhere
the picturesque swinging signs of ornamental ironwork.

An occasional tourist made his way westward to Ulm,
for the sake of seeing the famous cathedral, but as a rule
travelers pushed on to Nuremberg and Frankfort. Among
the cities of Germany, Nuremberg for centuries enjoyed
special distinction. A free imperial city, and the depository
of the imperial regalia, its patrician rulers were proud
of its name and its influence. Its situation on the old

349

GERMANY

trade route through Augsburg to Italy and the East
gave the city exceptional prosperity during the Middle
Ages and particularly in the fifteenth and early sixteenth
centuries. Along with wealth came a wonderful artistic
development, brilliantly illustrated by the work of Al-
brecht Durcr, Adam KrafTt, Veit Stoss, and Peter Vischer.

But, as in the case of Augsburg, the change in the
trade routes and the disasters of the Thirty Years' War
well-nigh ruined Nuremberg. Throughout the eight-
eenth century it was much depressed. The population
dwindled sadly, and many hundreds of houses stood
empty. But it still had a considerable trade, and it pre-
served much of the aristocratic temper of preceding gen-
erations. "There arc," says Nugent, "several distin-
guished families in Nurenbcrg, which are honoured with
the title of Patricians. Some of them are very rich, but
so haughty that nobody visits them, and they scarce
visit one another. They are apt to ape the noble Vene-
tians in everything, and to tyrannize over the people.
They wear pointed hats and monstrous bushy ruffs." ^
The imitation of Venetian aristocratic exclusiveness
brought it about that social life in Nuremberg had no
such freedom as in Frankfort-on-the-Main, in Ham-
burg, or in Berlin. "Conversation with the fair sex,"
says Keysler, "is under much greater restraints in Nurcn-
berg than in most other large cities. . . . And although
a foreigner be recommended to a Nurenbergcr in the
strongest manner, he will very, seldom invite him to
his house if he has a wife or daughter, but is so mistrust-
ful that he rather chuses to carry him to a tavern, and
there do him the honour of a rausche, i.e., make him
drunk." ^

After Keysler's day social lines were somewhat less
strictly drawn, but new ideas made slow progress in
Nuremberg. Many things were typically medieval.
"At each gate of the city," we are told, "a man is em-
ployed every night to go to the top of a high tower from
whence he sounds a frightful hora, to call people home

350

GERMANY

from the suburbs, and at the second blast every one,
except the patricians, must hasten to town, or be shut
out." '

In our day, when one looking out from the ancient
Burg sees in the suburbs the tall smoking shafts of great
factories that have made Nuremberg the most prosper-
ous commercial city in southern Germany, one can hardly
realize how short is the time that separates us from the
older order.

From Nuremberg the tourist who was making his
way to the Rhine region was likely to go to Frankfort-
on-thc-Main. This old free city, so exquisitely described
by Goethe, was on the great highroads leading to every
part of Germany. Like Hamburg, it had kept much of
its old prosperity and had an enviable reputation through-
out Europe for the excellence of its inns and the luxury
in which the best families lived. There was, indeed, an
old-fashioned air about Frankfort, an abiding, pervasive
survival of the many centuries that had witnessed the cor-
onation of the rulers of the Holy Roman Empire within the
ancient Romer. One recalls the suits of clothes that
Goethe brought with him from Frankfort to Leipsic,
when he went to the university, and the discovery he made
that he was dressed in the style of an earlier generation.

But Frankfort was one of the most interesting cities
in Germany, and in some particulars one of the most en-
lightened. Following old traditions, the municipality
permitted a reasonaVjlc freedom of speech and encouraged
an active trade. Even in Coryate's time it was a great
center for booksellers. Says he, "I went to the Bookesel-
lers streete, where I saw such infinite abundance of bookes,
that I greatly admired it. For this street far excelleth
Paules Churchyard in London, Saint James streete in
Paris, the Merceria of Venice, and all whatsoever else that
I sawe in my travels."' The supremacy in the publish-
ing of books gradually passed to Leipsic, but the great
fair of Frankfort drew large numbers of French and
German merchants every year.

351

GERMANY

Tourists of all sorts found their way to Frankfort,
and with little difficulty entered the social life of the
city. We may note in passing that the Jews at Frank-
fort were very numerous.^ As in many other German
cities, "they are confined," says Nugent, "to a particu-
lar part of the town, and go about from tavern to tavern
selling things to strangers. The Christians have a great
contempt for these wretches, putting them to the vilest
drudgeries, and particularly employing them in extin-
guishing fires. . . . They are obliged to wear a piece of
yellow cloth, to distinguish them from the other inhab-
itants." ^ This treatment appears sufficiently humiliating,
but it was far more liberal than was the case at Augs-
burg. There, says Nugent, "the Jews are not allowed
to live in the city, but in the neighboring villages, and are
obliged to pay a florin an hour when they resort hither." ^

But we must pass on to the Rhine. Few tourists whose
route brought them near the great river omitted the
trip down the Rhine. One could, as already remarked,
return from Italy through Geneva and Basel and descend
the Rhine, going as far as the cities of Holland. No other
river journey in Europe offered more of scenic and his-
toric interest or such an array of interesting cities —
Strassburg, Spires, Worms, Mannheim, with Heidelberg
a little to the east, Mainz, with Frankfort and Wiesbaden
within easy driving distance, Coblenz, Bonn, Cologne,
Diisseldorf, — to cite but a few.

Popular as the journey through the Rhine region was,
it was very primitive in comparison with the luxurious
excursion of to-day. Up stream, indeed, against the
swift current, progress was very slow. In the course of
a century or more there has been a great change in the
appearance of the districts along the banks. Then as
now vineyards covered the hills; but the aspect of the
towns was very old-fashioned. Most of them were walled.
Many had suffered severely in war. Almost all were
picturesque and interesting, but few of them were parti-
cularly inviting on close inspection. In many cases the

352

GERMANY

streets were badly paved and not too clean, and the an-
cient houses were out of repair. The eighteenth century-
did not greatly prize the survivals of the Middle Ages
that lend a peculiar charm to the valley of the Rhine.

Some change in the aspect of these old towns might be
expected in the course of three or four generations. But
even when allowance is made for reasonable growth,
it seems hardly credible that the lapse of little more than
a century could have wrought such transformations as are
found in these cities as they appear to-day and as they
are pictured in the plates that illustrate Cogan's de-
scription of the Rhine at the end of the eighteenth century.

But there was no lack of material for the sight-seer
of a centtu-y and a half ago. Strassburg,^ Spires, and
Worms offered their great cathedrals; and a short detour
to the east, on the way down from Basel to Strassburg,
brought one to the old university town of Freiburg,^
with its wooded hills and its fascinating cathedral. More
generally admired in the period of the grand tour was
Mannheim. Eighteenth-century taste regarded Mann-
heim, with its straight streets crossing one another at
right angles, as one of the most beautiful cities in Ger-
many. Bombarded and destroyed by the French in 1689
along with other cities of the Upper Rhine, it was rebuilt
ten years later with appalling regularity. Between 1720
and 1739 the Elector of the Palatinate erected here a huge
palace in which one of the most notable collections of art
and antiquities in Germany was housed. Its chief rivals
were at Diisseldorf and at Dresden. Unless too hurried,
the tourist who could present suitable credentials usually
arranged to see the Mannheim Collection, but if he had
neglected to attend to the formalities in advance, the loss
of time was usually too great.

A few miles below Mannheim, and almost opposite
to the mouth of the Main, was the ancient city of Mainz.
In many particulars it contrasted unfavorably with the
neighboring Frankfort. From a distance it made a brave
showing, with its towers, its red roofs, and the huge mass

353

GERMANY

of the cathedral. But the narrow, irregular, and badly
paved streets, the decayed medieval buildings, and the
general air of neglect did not invite a protracted sojourn.
The entire spirit of the place was different from that of
Frankfort. There a merchant might be a magistrate
and move in the best circles. But at Mainz any one in
commercial life was excluded with contempt from the
society of the gentry. French influence was strong at
Mainz, and French was the favored speech among all who
enjoyed high social standing.

We can spare but a word for most of the other towns
along the Rhine. In our day Bingen is particularly well
known. In the eighteenth century it was a mere village,
chiefly notable because a toll was demanded here from
every vessel going up or down the Rhine.

The next town particularly worthy of note was Coblenz,
now one of the best-built and most attractive of the cities
in the entire valley. Charmingly situated at the point
where the Mosel joins the Rhine, Coblenz was one of the
most historic of the cities between Mainz and Cologne.
The town had considerable wealth but was not handsome.
"The houses in general" were "antiquated and the pave-
ment irregular." ^ But as Coblenz had suffered severely
during the Thirty Years' War, and in 1688 was almost
entirely destroyed, though not captured, by the French
when they ravaged the Rhineland, it may well have
been somewhat dingy and uninviting. Tomists going
up or down the Rhine, or traversing the route between
Luxemburg and Coblenz by way of Trier and through
the Mosel Valley, perforce made a short stay at Coblenz.
To Coblenz flocked the French nobility after the out-
break of the Revolution and there lived for months —
idle and ungratefid — on the bounty of the Elector.
But for the ordinary sight-seer, who cared little for the
ancient Church of St. Castor or the Gothic bridge over
the Mosel, there was not much in the town itself to in-
vite a long visit.

Bonn shared with Mainz and Cologne the distinction

354

TOWING A VESSEL UP THE RHINE — THE TOWN AND
CASTLE OF HAMMERSTEIN IN THE BACKGROUND

GERMANY

of being "one of the oldest towns on the Rhine, but it
offered little to tourists. When Misson, making the grand
tour in 1687 with his pupil, ascended the Rhine, the
two went ashore at Bonn. The place appeared to them
"a little dirty city," and they "could not learn that
there was anything in it to deserve their stay there." ^
In Misson's day the university was not yet founded,
and for the Romanesque minster, with its apse toward
the river, he had no eyes. But the beautiful situation
made Bonn a favorite place of residence in the eighteenth
century. Nugent observes that it improves every day,
while Cologne is decaying .^

Cologne was visible from afar, and with its walls and
towers was strikingly picturesque. '"Tis very rare,"
says Nugent, "to see so many steeples anywhere at once
as appear to travellers upon approaching this city." ^
Early in the seventeenth century Coryate thought the
market-place "the fairest that I saw in my whole voyage,
saving that of St. Marks street in Venice." ^ But of all
the places in Germany that are now viewed by travelers
with admiring eyes, Cologne, even in the second half
of the eighteenth century, called forth the severest crit-
icism for its beggars, its squalor, its superstition. Much
of the city was badly built, and many houses were deserted
and falling in ruins. Baron Riesbeck pronounced it in
every respect the ugliest town in all Germany. Grass
grew in the streets, which were full of disgusting filth. ^
Night and day pestilential stenches polluted the air.
The great medieval churches, that now give a unique
interest to Cologne, were out of repair and bedizened
with tawdry ornaments. The cathedral, left half-finished
since the Middle Ages, was encumbered with houses
and traversed by one of the city streets.

Ancient fashions persisted long at Cologne. A genera-
tion before the period we are chiefly considering, a traveler
observes that "at Cologne the women go veiled, as in
Italy." ^ As at Augsburg and some other German cities,
the treatment of the Jews at Cologne was sufficiently

355

GERMANY

illiberal. "Over against Cologne there is a village called
Deutz, on the other side of the Rhine, inhabited chiefly
by Jews whom the elector allows to live there, but they
are not allowed to enter the city without a guard." ^

But especially suggestive of the poverty-stricken char-
acter of the city is the picture drawn by a tourist in the
latter part of the century: "A great part of the inhab-
itants are privileged beggars, who form here a regular
corporation: they sit upon rows of stools, placed in every
church, and take precedence according to their seniority.
. . . On the few days of the year when there are no fes-
tivals, they roam through the city and besiege the travel-
lers with an insolence and rudeness not to be conceived.
Upon the whole, Cologne is at least a century behind the
rest of Germany. Bigotry, ill-manners, clownishness,
slothfulness are visible everywhere; and the speech,
dress, ftimiture of the houses, everything, in short, is
so different from what is seen in the rest of Germany,
that you conceive yourself in the middle of a colony of
strangers." ^

A few miles below Cologne, on the right bank of the
Rhine, stood Diisseldorf, described by Nugent as "a
large, handsome city." ^ Diisseldorf was famous through-
out Europe , for its gallery of pictures, particularly of
masters of the Dutch and Flemish schools. Until 1805
this collection was the chief treasure of the Elector's
Palace and drew great numbers of visitors. But in that
year it was transferred to Munich, where it has since
remained.

We have followed the course of tourists from Vienna
across southern Germany, and we have outlined the
journey along the Rhine. But another route also was very
popular. Tourists often preferred to go up from Vienna
through Bohemia to Dresden and Leipsic and Berlin.
The journey through the dreary plains of Bohemia was
no great pleasure, for "the peasants were all in a state
of vassalage to the nobility, and ... a brutish heavy
kind of people, pretty much addicted to pilfering and

356

GERMANY

thieving." ^ But at Prague one found a beautiful and
wealthy city, with the nobility and gentry living in lux-
ury unsurpassed in any other part of Germany. "As to
company there is no town in the Empire that has a greater
choice. There are assemblies in the houses of quality
every night, where they divert themselves with gaming
and crown the night with good cheer, as pheasants, orto-
lans, trouts, salmon and cray-fish, with good wine." ^

The old capital of Bohemia had, indeed, no lack of
interest, with its many-arched medieval bridge spanning
the Moldau, its strong city walls and towers, its great
ghetto, and on the heights overlooking the city and the
river the historic palace of the kings — the Hradschin.
One might well linger at Prague, but we cannot pause
for more detail.

From Prague the tourist might go to Eger, or perhaps
halt for a short stay at the famous Baths of Karlsbad.
If his fancy led him toward Breslau he went through Kon-
iggratz and Schweidnitz. A well-known route from Eger
to Amsterdam ^ conducted him through Culmbach, Bam-
berg,* Wiirzburg, Aschaffenburg, to Frankfort-on-the-
Main, and thence down the Rhine to the Dutch capital.

Few toiuists journeying from Prague to Berlin neg-
lected to see Dresden and Leipsic. Dresden, the seat of
the court of the Elector of Saxony, was counted by trav-
elers of every type as one of the most agreeable cities in
Germany. Situated on the Elbe, here spanned by a
monumental stone bridge, and within easy reach of charm-
ing scenery, it possessed attractions that since the eight-
eenth centiury have in ever increasing measure made
it a favorite abode of English-speaking residents. More
than twice as large as Leipsic, Dresden made far less
demand upon the tourist's piurse. Says Mariana Starke,
"The people are quiet, worthy, and very civil to foreigners,
who live here comfortably at a moderate expense." ^
For the majority of the inhabitants economy was made
necessary by the heavy btirdens imposed by the Seven
Years' War. But the city made a good appearance and

357

GERMANY

compared favorably with Vienna. The houses were
"all of freestone, high and substantial; the streets broad,
straight, well paved, neat, and in the night time well
lighted." ^ Many houses were spacious and handsomely
furnished. The traveler who coiild afford the expense
found at the Hotel de Pologne an inn rivaling the best
in Europe, where one was entertained in princely style.

Nearly everything at Dresden was in fact the best of
its kind. The court was for a time counted one of the
most brilliant in Europe. And the court band, the theater,
and the dancers were maintained at vast expense. ^ For
the tourist of culture the special attraction of Dresden,
however, was the great gallery of pictures, unsurpassed
in Germany and one of the finest in Europe. Before 1760
it contained more than two thousand pieces, among them
Correggio's "La Notte" and "Mary Magdalene," and
Raphael's Sistine Madonna. The modem picture-buyer
smiles to note that the collection was "valued at near
£500,000." 3 For the Sistine Madonna the price paid was
about 225,000 francs.

But tourists were expected to pay handsomely for seeing
the treasures of Dresden. Early in the century Keysler
suggests to those who visit the famous "Green Vault"
that "the fee for seeing this museum is generously dis-
charged with five or six guldens * given the attendant,
who opens the doors; but the greatest part of it goes to
the superintendent, or keeper of the museum. At the
entrance the shoes of such persons as are admitted are
carefully wiped, in order to keep the place as free as possible
from dirt or dust." ^ And late in the centtu-y tourists were
advised that to see the picture gallery, the treasury, the
cabinet of antiques, the elector's library, "it is necessary
over-night to send your name, country, and quality to the
respective Directors, together with the number of per-
sons you design bringing, and the hoiirs at which you
mean to come." ^

From Dresden a slight detour to the northwest brought
one to Leipsic. In the middle of the eighteenth century

358

GERMANY

Leipsic was a city of no more than about thirty thousand
inhabitants. One could "easily walk round it in the
compass of an hour." It was fortified, but the walls were
more suited for a pleasant promenade than for defense.
An invading army would have found rich spoil in Leipsic.
Tourists were particularly impressed with "the great mar-
ket-place, adorned with merchants' houses, which look
like princely palaces, and make the handsomest figure
of any buildings of that kind in Europe." ^ Much of the
older Leipsic still survives, with its quaint sixteenth-
century Rathhaus, with its houses "of stone or brick,
six or seven stories high," and its narrow winding streets,
where a stranger speedily loses his way.

This "klein Paris," as Goethe called it, was famous for its
university and for the splendor in which the inhabitants
lived. "The women dress vastly gay," says Nugent,
"and are very sumptuous in respect to gold and silver lace
with which they adorn their caps and gowns. . . . There
is a great ntunber of chariots in town, which belong to
physicians, professors, or merchants; for the nobility are
not allowed to have houses of their own in this city."^

Much of this display of wealth was maintained by the
great fairs, which drew thousands of merchants from every
part of Europe and even from Asia. After 1764, Leipsic
won in the competition with Frankfort for the supremacy
in the publishing of books, and has not since been surpassed
in this field by any other German city.

As one result of the prosperity of the city, the cost of
living was high. "The students are at great expence in
this town, "says Nugent, "lodging and provisions being very
dear; but then they have the advantage of mixing with the
best of company, and acquiring a greater politeness of
behaviour than in any other German university." ^

Along with her devotion to trade Leipsic gloried in the
reputation of her scholars and men of letters. Here Gott-
sched ruled as literary dictator in his day. Here lived
Gellert and Klopstock, and, for a time, the greatest of
German critics — Lessing. Here came Goethe in the pride

359

GERMANY

of his young manhood and enrolled his name as a student.
Here, too, came Schiller, and an endless array of other men
who are not yet forgotten. A city boasting all these attrac-
tions not unnaturally appealed to the tourist, and Leipsic
was commonly included in the list of the eight or ten cities
thought best worth visiting.

In the very front rank of these cities, stood Berlin. Un-
like France, Germany has never had a capital, but even
in the eighteenth century Berlin, though far smaller than
London or Paris or Vienna, may without question be
ranked among the foremost cities of Europe. Tourists
grow enthusiastic over "its spacious, beautiful streets,"
its "royal palace, a magnificent structure of free-stone,"
the churches, the arsenal, the opera house, and the splendors
of the court, with its throng of nobility and officers of the
army — the officers of Frederick the Great. A short drive
to the west of Berlin brought one to Charlottenburg, with
its Schloss and its gardens. A few miles farther on was
Potsdam, where Frederick gathered about him some of the
most brilliant minds of Europe.

But though regarded as "certainly one of the most beau-
tiful cities in Europe," ^ Berlin was very far from being the
great and imposing city that one sees to-day. Indeed, one
who was familiar with Berlin only a quarter of a century ago
would hardly recognize the present city. In the last quarter
of the eighteenth century Dr. Moore remarks: "There
are a few very magnificent buildings in this town. The rest
are neat houses, built of a fine white free-stone, generally
one, or at most two stories high." ^ Then, as now, "the
most fashionable walk in Berlin" was "in the middle of one
of the principal streets" — Unter den Linden. The entire
city was "surrounded with a wall and fortifications in the
modern way." ^ Such antiquity, however, as marks scores
of German cities even in our time was entirely lacking.

Berlin in part attested its claim to be regarded as a great
center by high prices. Money was "a great deal scarcer
than at London or Paris, "^ but strangers found "very little
difference in the ordinary expense of living." ^ Something

360

THE OLD TOWN AND CANAL — HAMBURG

GERMANY

of a cosmopolitan air was imparted by the "vast number
of French refugees at Berlin, insomuch that the French
language" was "almost as commonly spoken and under-
stood as German. The partiality shewn by the present
King to the French nation has induced great numbers of
the inhabitants of that country to flock hither every day, for
which reason it is called by a great many the Paris of
Germany." ^

There was as yet no university in Berlin, but, like Got-
tingen and Leipsic and Hamburg, the city was a center of
great intellectual activity. The Berlin Academy, organized
on the plans of Leibnitz, counted notable scholars among its
members, particularly Lessing, who was elected in 1760.
After the middle of the century, Lessing did much during
his residence at Berlin to emancipate German literature
from the trammels in which it had moved. He drew his
inspiration more from English literature than from French,
and along with his Jewish friend Moses Mendelssohn, and
others, he made Berlin widely recognized as a city of
"enlightenment." To the great Frederick German litera-
ture owed little immediate encouragement. He was pas-
sionately devoted to French literature and incapable of
appreciating the rising German writers that have made
his reign illustrious, but the political supremacy he gave
to Prussia brought with it an inevitable advance in all
departments of culture, and made Berlin a city that no
intelligent tourist could afford to neglect.

Very different in type and history was the city of Ham-
burg.2 This great free city, with its mighty fortifications
and its picturesque high-gabled houses, saw every year a
good proportion of the English toiu-ists who visited Ger-
many. Its wealth and culture, its commercial importance,
and, in particular, its situation, made it the city with
which Englishmen very frequently began or ended their
tour in Germany. Strangers found easy access to the luxu-
rious society of Hamburg and were made to feel very much
at home.

Hamburg, along with Bremen, had remained neutral

361

GERMANY

during the Thirty Years' War, and, except for the in-
evitable loss of inland trade and the consequent lack of
employment for the lower classes, sustained no material
injury. In the eighteenth century it carried on a vast com-
merce with all parts of Germany and was the richest and
most important seaport, as well as "the most flourishing
commercial city, in all Germany." ^ The inhabitants of
Hamburg were accustomed to deal with affairs in a large
way, and they were themselves great travelers.

This commercial supremacy naturally involved easy com-
munication with other cities and made Hamburg a favorite
starting-point for the journey to Copenhagen, to Stock-
holm, and other Baltic ports, to Cologne and Brussels and
Amsterdam, to Frankfort, Strassburg, and Geneva, and, in
particular, for the journey to Vienna and intermediate
cities. The stage-route to Vienna in summer ran through
Braunschweig, Nuremberg, and Regensburg, where one
might take the market-boat twice a week down the Dan-
ube, or continue by land through Passau, Linz, and Krems
to Vienna, a distance of about five hundred and fifty
miles.2 Two other routes from Hamburg to Vienna ran,
one through Berlin and Breslau,' — the longest of all,
— the other through Leipsic and Prague. Of these three
routes the last was the shortest.

Tourists entering or leaving Germany by way of Ham-
burg got a very favorable view of German culture. Some
of the most notable men of letters, among them for a time
Klopstock and Lessing, made their home there. And the
theater of Hamburg enjoyed a European reputation.

With Hamburg we may well conclude our survey of
Germany. Some toiuists, indeed, saw much more of the
country than we have considered. They made their way
through the towns along the Baltic coast, — Liibeck,
Rostock, Stralsund, Stettin, Dantzig, Marienburg, Kon-
igsberg, and sometimes went as far as Riga or even St.
Petersburg. Incidentally, too, in other parts of the coun-
try, English travelers touched a multitude of places that
we cannot take time to consider. There has, therefore,

362

GERMANY

been no account taken here of Aachen, the ancient city of
Charlemagne, one of the popular health resorts of north-
ern Europe;^ of Hanover; of Braunschweig, where were
"generally some young gentlemen from Britain . . . sent
to be educated" there; '^ of Regensberg, the imperial city
abounding in ancient architectiure, and noted for its so-
ciety; of Schwalbach, famed for its mineral waters; of
Cassel, of Gotha, of Weimar, of Eisenach, of Jena, of Bam-
berg, and of scores of other towns that would find due
place in a systematic guide-book. But the ordinary eight-
eenth-century tourist woiild, perhaps, hardly feel that he
had been defrauded by the omission.

363

CHAPTER XIV

THE LOW COUNTRIES
I

The trip in the Low Countries might be taken, as it
often was, as part of a short circular tour by one who ran
over to the Continent for only a few weeks, but commonly
it was put in at the beginning or the end of the long Conti-
nental tour. The Austrian Netherlands and the Dutch
Provinces were in many respects very different in their
physical character, their type of population, and the occu-
pations of the people. We shall therefore do well to con-
sider separately the two divisions — the Dutch Nether-
lands, which we commonly know as Holland, and the
Austrian Netherlands, substantially the same as what we
now call Belgium. But we need not spend many words on
either division.

Tourists in the Low Countries appear, indeed, to have
done about the same things that tourists now do, if we make
allowance for the means for rapid travel now at the disposal
of sight-seers. In the eighteenth century one covered less
ground in a day, but in countries so diminutive, where
comparatively little time had to be spent in merely passing
from place to place, the advantage of feverish haste was
not evident. All in all, the tour in the Netherlands was
not so highly esteemed as the tour through France or Italy. ^
Yet there was no lack of curious strangers. In the first
quarter of the seventeenth century, Howell tells us, "There
is no part of Europe so haunted with all sorts of foreigners
as the Netherlands, which makes the inhabitants, as well
women as men, so well versed in all sorts of languages, so
that, at Exchange time, one may hear seven or eight sorts
of tongues spoken upon their burses; nor are the men

364

THE LOW COUNTRIES

only expert herein, but the women and maids in their
common hostries." '

^ Holland was for its size "the richest country of the Con-
tinent," and the Bank of Holland at Amsterdam was
"supposed to contain more treasure than all the banks of
Europe." 2 The Dutch people were notable for their fru-
gality.» "One would think they suck in with their milk a
desire and thirst of gain. . . . They are given to drinking,
as well as all the northern nations, but especially when they
treat their friends, which they do very elegantly, tho' per-
haps they save it out of their bellies the rest of the week.
They affect to be neat in their houses and furniture to a
degree of excess; for they continually wash and rub their
goods, even the benches, and the least plank, not forgetting
the stairs, at the bottom of which most of them pull off
their shoes before they go up. Even the very streets are
kept wonderfully clean, the servants of each house being
obliged every day to wash and rub the pavement before
their door." ^

As for Dutch society, it lacked the sparkle and brilliancy
of the society of Paris, Rome, and Vienna; and then as
now comparatively few English took the pains to seek
admittance to it. What chiefly attracted the tourist in
Holland was the quaint survivals in dress and manners
and architecture that met him not only in little towns, but
in great cities. His stay was commonly not long at any one
place, but as in other countries he was likely to make his way
to some of the more notable cities.

English tourists had more than one reason to feel some-
what at home in Holland. For generations this little coun-
try had been a refuge for Englishmen who were unwel-
come at home. Then, too, the active commerce with
Holland compelled the presence of considerable English
colonies in more than one seaport. From Rotterdam, says
Nugent, "sometimes three hundred British vessels go out
at once." ^ Here were two English churches, and "two
or three English houses for the accommodation of travel-
lers." « There were enough English at Amsterdam to sup-

. 365

THE LOW COUNTRIES

port an English church. At Middleburg there was one Eng-
lish church, and at Dordrecht there were two.

Most of the places that claimed the attention of the
tourist were the same that strangers commonly visit to-day.
The ordinary round in Holland included Middleburg,
Dordrecht, Rotterdam, Delft, The Hague, Leyden, Haar-
lem, Amsterdam, Utrecht, and Gouda, with a possible run
to Amheim or Zutfen or to s'Hertogenbosch,^ and Nime-
guen. The eighteenth-century accounts of the towns of
Holland seem very modem. Holland has, indeed, changed
singularly little in outward appearance in the course of
two centuries. There are now fewer walled towns,^ and
there is electric or steam transportation everjrwhere ; but
the general aspect of most Dutch towns is much the same
as in Dutch pictures of the seventeenth century.

What Lady Mary Wortley Montagu remarked in 17 16
continued true in the main throughout the eighteenth cen-
tury: "Sure nothing can be more agreeable than travel-
ling in Holland. The whole country appears a large garden ;
the roads are well paved, shaded on each side with rows of
trees and bordered with large canals, full of boats, passing
and repassing. Every twenty paces gives you the prospect
of some villa, and every four hours that of a large town, so
surprisingly neat, I am sure you would be charmed with
them." 8

It is not to be supposed, however, that a century and a
half can pass over a country without leaving traces, and it
is, of course, in the towns that one notes the most marked
changes since the grand tour went out of fashion. To a
few of these towns we may now give a word or two of com-
ment. Rotterdam was, "next to Amsterdam, the most
trading town in the United Provinces,"* and "the usual
landing place of strangers."^ "There is," says Nugent,
"always a large number of British subjects who reside in
this town, and live much in the same manner as in Great
Britain?" ^ In our day Rotterdam offers little of artistic
or architectural interest, and in the eighteenth century it
offered still less.

366

THE LOW COUNTRIES

A short journey by canal brought one from Rotterdam to
Delft. Delft was notable in the eighteenth century as "a
very agreeable quiet place, being the retreat of wealthy
merchants who have left off business." ^ The memory of
William the Silent and his tragic end pervaded the little
city, but, apart from the old Prinsenhof , where William was
assassinated, and the chtu"ch containing his tomb, there was
little at Delft to detain the sight-seer. A writer in 1743 com-
plains that most tourists are so much in a hurry "to secure
the first boat that goes off for The Hague" as not to allow
themselves "sufficient time for viewing so considerable a
city." 2

The Hague was justly popular with the English, who
there made themselves very much at home and had their
own inns and coffee-houses.^ This city was noted for the
magnificence of its buildings, the width of its streets, and
the great number of its squares and its shade trees. All
about The Hague were "beautiful coimtry houses, mag-
nificent gardens, fine meadows or charming villages." *
In the city itself, before excessive gaming became "the
reigning passion of the place," ^ one of the favorite diver-
sions was to "walk on the Mall and to watch the fine
coaches."

Fashions at The Hague were very arbitrary. "People
observe forms here more than they do at the Court of Great
Britain. They know nothing of a morning imdress. Were
a person of equality to appear in the Mall at The Hague
equipped like his footman, every body would believe him
out of his senses." ^

At The Hague gaming was the chief diversion, as
was the case in most of the other capitals of Europe.
"Those, however, who do not play are not thought so im-
fashionable and ill-bred, and consequently are not so much
out of countenance here as at Paris or London." ^ The
same author remarks: "The inhabitants of The Hague are
more genteel, conversible, and civil to strangers, than
those of the other cities of the provinces. It must, how-
ever, be owned, that they are as defective in point of

367

THE LOW COUNTRIES

hospitality, as those of the other cities. They hardly know
what it is to invite a stranger to drink a glass of wine, or a
dish of tea, and much less to a dinner. They excuse this
excess of parsimony by saying, that were they to give in to
the custom of entertainments, as practised in other coun-
tries, they should soon be undone, in effect of being visited
by so great a number of strangers."^

A characteristic eighteenth-century attraction of The
Hague was "the Spin-house, or house of correction for such
young women as have made a false step. . . . Everybody is
admitted to see them, paying two-pence to the porter." ^
But the picture gallery which is now the goal of most vis-
itors to The Hague had not yet been established.

When one tired of the town one could drive down to the
beach. Scheveningen was not yet the popiilar watering-
place for The Hague and all Holland that it now is. "The
village consists of one pretty street, with the church at the
farther end of it." ^ But even in the eighteenth century
tourists agreed that "there is not a pleasanter or more
refreshing place anywhere for coaches, chaises, or people
on foot than the sands, especially when the sea is out." ^
The great hotels that now overlook the beach were of
course not even planned, but such accommodations as there
were anticipated modem conditions at Scheveningen, in
at least one particular. Hungry sight-seers sometimes got
a meal at one of the fishermen's houses. "The largest of
them stands on the downs, and has a prospect to the sea,
being an inn where you may go and have a dinner drest, if
you like to pay for it twice as much as it is worth; for all
the innkeepers of this place are remarkable for large bills." *
Overreaching was, indeed, the besetting sin of the Dutch,
particularly if one was so simple as to trust to the honor of
the innkeeper, the postilion, the porter, or the master of
the post-chaises,^ and could point to no recognized tariff
in case of a dispute.

But we must pass on to Amsterdam, on the way noting
that Leyden and Haarlem were each famous, the one for
its university and the other for its great organ, its pic-

. 368

THE LOW COUNTRIES

tures, and its tulip gardens. Leyden was the largest
town in Holland next to Amsterdam.^ Leyden and
Haarlem were, however, provincial, while Amsterdam took
its place as one of the three greatest cities in Christendom.
"It is," says Nugent, "certainly one of the greatest ports
in the known world for trade, and perhaps inferior to
none for riches." ^

Notwithstanding the wealth of the city, coaches were
few, since not many persons, "except strangers and phy-
sicians," were allowed to have them. The houses were
built upon piles, and it was feared that the jarring of car-
riages would injure them. "There is a greater number
of sleds," says Nugent, "which are a heavy, unpleasant
carriage, and fit for none but old women." ^ As for trans-
portation on the canals, it was not particularly agree-
able in hot weather on account of the fetid odors. The
favorite promenade was along the town walls, where was
a "dyke shaded by two rows of trees." "

As might be expected in a preeminently commercial
community, money was "adored here more than in
any other country," and, according to Nugent, supplied
"the place of birth, wit, and merit." ^ The wealth of
the city was evidenced by the streets, some of which
were counted among the finest in Europe — the Heeren
Gracht, the Keizers Gracht, the Prinsen Gracht — with
canals down through the center. Already famous was
Kalver Straat, in our day one of the busiest streets in
the world.

Particulariy notable among the sights of Amsterdam
was the State House, which even eighteenth-century tour-
ists criticized for the lack of a fitting entrance. None
of the churches was remarkable. As at The Hague, a
favorite sight was the Spin-House, "where they lock up
lewd women. . . . Those under whose custody they are,
who look like grave and sober matrons, permit gentlemen
for a trifle of money (that Dutch god) to have access to
them, so as to speak to one another through the grates;
on which occasion it is customary for them to entertain

369

THE LOW COUNTRIES

their visitors with such abominable discourses and in-
decent actions as are shocking to men of any sense or
morahty." ^ "It is also customary for strangers to see
something of the famous Spiel-houses or music houses in
this city. These are a kind of taverns and halls where
young people of the meaner sort, both men and women,
meet for dancing." ^

Besides these moderately edifying amusements, the
tourist interested in art found much at Amsterdam to
occupy him if he secured admittance to private gal-
leries, but the magnificent collection which is now the
pride of all Holland was not yet brought together. All
in all, there was a good deal of humdrum at Amsterdam;
and one who had traversed all Europe in search of excite-
ment found Amsterdam tame in comparison with Paris
or Naples or Rome or Vienna. If one was interested in
trade, one did well to tarry at Amsterdam, but as for
sight-seeing an experienced tourist could exhaust the place
in a few days.

We need not take the time to traverse the country in
detail, but we may note that Holland in the eighteenth
century attracted Englishmen, and particularly young
Scotchmen, of wealth, to go there to complete their edu-
cation.^ Commonly, their work at the university was
supplemented by a tour in France, which familiarized
them with French manners and French morals — or what
passed as such. For higher education, particularly in
medicine and law, Utrecht was famous and drew to the
university "a great number of foreigners, among the rest
some English." * James Boswell went to Utrecht as a
student of law in 1763. Goldsmith was for a time at Ley-
den. A writer in 1743, comparing Leyden and Utrecht,
remarks: "Dress is not at all regarded at Leyden, and
rich clothes are in contempt there. In Utrecht they affect
more politeness, and always go abroad drest. They all
wear swords." ^

A short run from Utrecht towards Rotterdam en-
abled one to visit the old church of Gouda, with its

370

THE LOW COUNTRIES

famous windows, containing the finest painted glass in
Holland.

As already remarked, a good nimiber of English regu-
larly resided in Holland, but few English tourists made
a long stay there, and fewer still got enough acquaintance
with Dutch to converse freely with the common people.
Such social intercoturse as there was between the natives
and the tourists was commonly carried on in French or
English. The Dutch people of the higher classes, we are
told, "imitate the French in their dress, their mien, talk,
diet, gallantry, or debauchery, but mimic them very
aiikwardly." ^ To the Dutch people, the English, with
comparatively few exceptions, were mere birds of passage.
And as for the reserved English, they found in the Dutch
a stolid indifference that permitted the tourist to flit
past without suffering the annoyance of excessive cour-
tesy. Among themselves, Dutch families, interrelated
in manifold ways throughout Holland, exchanged visits
with commendable zeal, keeping accurate count of the
obligations incurred, and repaying them in due season.
But with strangers as guests the obligations would have
been all on the wrong side of the social ledger; and to the
thrifty the returns seemed hardly to justify the outlay of
trouble and expense.

II

In the Austrian Netherlands tourists saw a good num-
ber of the towns and, particularly in Flanders, founJl
"the inhabitants . . . more polite and hospitable than
those of Holland, being an open and freehearted people." ^
One went, of course, to Antwerp and Brussels, and if time
permitted, to Ghent and Bruges, to Ypres, Toiunay,
Dinant, Namiir, and Liege. Especially popular was Spa,
which might almost be counted as the typical Continental
watering-place in the eighteenth century. Ostend and
Blankenbergh, we may note, had not yet become seaside
resorts.

Antwerp was noted for the number and beauty of its

371

THE LOW COUNTRIES

churches, and in particiilar for the vast cathedral with
its soaring spire, the favorite subject of more than one
Flemish painter; but the greed of the Dutch in closing
the Scheldt to commerce, by sinking ships filled with
stones and by driving palisades, made the city a dull,
deserted place, with grass growing in the streets. Says
James Edward Smith, "Surely the inhabitants have need
of every sort of dissipation to make existence tolerable
in so gloomy and lifeless a town." *

Brussels, on the other hand, was prosperous, and was
counted "one of the most beautiful and brilliant cities in
Europe." The great number of well-to-do, unoccupied
strangers there gave it the appearance of a watering-place.
Social intercourse was easy and morality not too rigid.
The inhabitants were noted for affability and politeness.
Their private picture galleries they very courteously showed
to strangers. In the palaces of the nobility there were
notable collections of the greatest Flemish and Italian
masters. The water supply of Brussels vied with that of
Rome itself, and the "inns or eating houses" were "equal
to any in Europe." How cheap they were we have seen
elsewhere .2 In a way Brussels was a small copy of Paris,
but the imitation was very transparent and deceived no-
body. For a short stay, however, Brussels was extremely
agreeable, and whoever toured the Low Countries included
Brussels in his route as a matter of course.

Very different in character was Bruges, with its silent,
glassy canals bordered with huge windmills, its decayed
and mouldered aspect. At every turn one saw traces
of departed wealth and greatness — in the vast square
once filled with busy traders from every country in Europe
and from remote comers of Asia, in the richly adorned
ancient houses, in the mighty Halles, with lofty tower and
tinkling chimes, and in the immense churches, filled with
exquisite works of art. The charm of the old city was felt
even in the eighteenth century, though many of the artistic
treasures of the medieval period were not duly prized
until a later day.

372

THE LOW COUNTRIES

Another survival from the Middle Ages was Ypres,
once a city counting its inhabitants by scores of thou-
sands but long since reduced to the rank of a small town.
Here, too, the Grand Place, one of the largest in Europe,
the long Gothic arcades of the Cloth Halls, the beautiful
cathedral, and many other ancient buildings gave a sug-
gestion of the greatness of Ypres in the days when its name
was known beyond the seas.

We cannot linger at Toumay, with its sleepy old streets
and its many-towered cathedral, or at Namur, with its
famous citadel, but we must give a word to Liege and
Spa. Liege was noted for its wealth and the magni-
ficence of its buildings, particidarly of the churches, a
reputation well deserved even in the opinion of our day.
Particularly was it desirable as a place of residence. "The
gentlemen of Liege," says Nugent, "are affable and
courteous to strangers. The inns are very good, and pro-
visions extremely cheap; and there are few places in
Europe where one has a greater variety of better wines.
In short, a gentleman of a small estate cannot live in any
place in the world more comfortably than at Liege." ^

But as a resort for pleasure-seekers no place in the
Netherlands, and few in Europe, rivaled Spa. In the
middle of the eighteenth century the town consisted of
four streets in the form of a cross and contained about four
hundred houses. During the months of Jime, Jtily, and
August it was overrun with tourists, who came to drink
the waters and participate in the gay life. In August
of 1768 the Earl of Carlisle writes to Selwyn that he has
found many friends there, and he adds: "I rise at six; am
on horseback till breakfast ; play at cricket till dinner ; and
dance in the evening till I can scarce crawl to bed at eleven.
This is a life for you." ^

Charles James Fox was here with the family party in
1 77 1 and had no difficulty in dissipating some of the
paternal wealth. In August, 1767, Lady Sarah Bun-
bury, writing to Selwyn from Spa, says, "I like this place
very much"; and such was the verdict of most English

373

THE LOW COUNTRIES

tourists. We might cite a long list of titled visitors, both
men and women, but for our purpose this is unnecessary.
We have now completed our survey of some of the most
representative of the towns that attracted eighteenth-
century tourists. The list is in no sense exhaustive, and
in the nature of the case could not be, but it is sufficiently
extended to indicate with reasonable accuracy the lines of
travel most followed a century and a half ago by those
who traveled for amusement or for intellectual profit.

374

CHAPTER XV^

CONTEMPORARY COMMENT ON THE GRAND TOUR

One who has followed the course of the tourist as out-
lined in the preceding pages needs little further comment
upon the value of the grand tour as a system of education.
If the tourist was prepared to take advantage of the op-
portunities so richly offered, the returns were of almost
incalciilable value. What the educational possibilities
of well-directed travel were we may see in its influence
upon an eager young tourist like Goethe. And he was
merely an unusually brilliant type of what many English
travelers strove to be. One naturally thinks of Milton, of
Evelyn, of Addison, of Gray. Many EngHshmen, doubt-
less the majority, traveled superficially, but as a class they
had the reputation, not only of being the most numerous
toiirists on the Continent, but — with the possible ex-
ception of the Germans — of deriving more profit from
their journeys than any other travelers.

Even to the dullest dolt there was something in St.
Peter's, in the Bay of Naples, in the ascent of Vesuvius,
to stir the blood and give a fillip to the imagination. In
general, we may safely venture the opinion that when a
reasonably mature young man of good ability and some
self-restraint went abroad with a tolerable education and
spent his time in mastering the languages of the Continent,
in becoming familiar with the art, the architecture, the
social usages, the history, the systems of government, of
the various countries he visited, he could hardly have
employed his time more profitably. The studious and
open-minded tourist enlarged his view of mankind, learned
tolerance, discovered what was worthy of imitation, grew

375

COMMENT ON THE GRAND TOUR

more polished in manners, and became a citizen of the
world.

Like most things human, the grand tour was neither
wholly good nor wholly bad. But the young tourist was
too often a mere unlicked cub, who brought to the study
of the art of Florence and the antiquities of Rome the
taste and the manners of Tony Lumpkin. Naturally, as
is the case with most questions where the terms are ill-
defined, there was great divergence of opinion as to the
value of the grand tour. Tourists differed widely in
character and aims and attainments and signally failed
in many cases to profit by their opportunities, even when
they escaped moral contamination. Those who saw mainly
the evils were not disposed to minimize them: those, on
the other hand, who realized the humanizing influence of
the study of other lands and peoples stoutly maintained
that the good results far exceeded the bad ; that those who
went astray on the Continent would have done the same
at home; and that sooner or later a young man must be
left to direct his own steps. With this wide diversity
of opinion concerning the influence of foreign travel, we
cannot safely make a sweeping generalization. Not-
withstanding the fact that travelers tended to follow
beaten tracks and that they saw many of the same things,
no tour exactly duplicated another in its details and in
the impression that it made on the sight-seer.

For most young fellows the grand tour involved a
large expenditure of time and money for which they
got comparatively small return. For them the long
stay abroad was not a time for serious study: for that
they had no taste and, in their own opinion, probably,
no need; but it was a glorious opportunity for a long-
continued lark. The theoretical advantages offered by
the opportunities for study abroad were more than offset
in practice by the difficulties in the way of carrying through
any systematic course of training. High-spirited young
men were little disposed to listen with patience to the pre-
cepts of the underpaid and low-bom tutor who accom-

376

COMMENT ON THE GRAND TOUR

panied them. Discipline at a distance of hundreds of
miles from the home authority must have been sadly
relaxed. Going abroad as young lords of the earth, with
abundance of money, exuberant health, and little feeling
of responsibility, they put a heavy burden upon their
tutors and upon the courtesy of the strangers with whom
they came in contact. But these tourists were- to all in-
tents boys, and they acted like boys. At the monastery
of St. Dominic in Rome, relates Breval: "One of the
Fathers who was doing the Honours of the Monastery to
some of our young Countrymen, thought he paid them
a very great Compliment in plucking off some of the
Sanctified Fruit, and presenting them with it; The Reader
may imagine how scandalized the good Man was, when
he observ'd his Strangers soon after pelting one another
in Jest with his Dominic's Oranges." *

II

But it may be worth while to put together a few con-
temporary estimates of the value of travel to the average
young tourist in order that we may appreciate in some
measure the atmosphere in which he moved and see how
those who best knew him regarded the educational product
that came back from the Continent.

The educational value of the grand tour was for genera-
tions one of the most warmly debated questions in English
society. What the grand tour proposed we have already
considered in some detail. The aims of the system at its
best could certainly not be bettered. They involved noth-
ing less than a mastery of all that was best worth learning
in every country that was visited. Positively appalling is
the programme laid down in some of the books designed
to guide the steps of young travelers. Only by a miracle
could one who had passed through such a training in all its
details escape becoming an insufferable prig.

But what was the actual effect upon the average young
Englishman of the long stay upon the Continent? The an-

377

COMMENT ON THE GRAND TOUR

swer is not easy, but there are a good many facts that are
suggestive. Scattered up and down eighteenth-century
literature and works of travel we find no lack of criticism
of the fellows who traveled with tutors nearly as ignorant
as themselves, learning nothing of value, and spending
their money with thoughtless profusion. The average,
plodding, conscientious tourist attracted little notice and
afforded no mark for the satirist. The roistering spend-
thrift, on the other hand, invited criticism that was some-
times extended to those who did not deserve it.

The seamy side of the grand tour drew the attention not
merely of piuitanic moralists and fussy schoolmasters, but
of men of the world who had themselves trodden the prim-
rose path. The fact that writers of very different type
strike at the same evil affords added proof that it really
existed. The substance of the criticism, which though
varied in source is singularly alike in the final impression
that it leaves, we might present in few words and without
the otherwise inevitable repetition — of opinion if not of
phraseology — but we should thereby lose the contempo-
rary flavor and some of the point. In any case it will re-
quire but a few pages to present representative contem-
porary opinion of the value of the grand tour from the time
of Locke and Pope to that of Cowper and Bums and Dr.
Moore.

Locke had seen a good deal of life on the Continent, and
he presents the view of a philosophical observer at the "close
of the seventeenth century: "The last part usuallyln edu-
cation is travel, which is commonly thought to finish the
work, and complete the gentleman. I confess travel into
foreign parts has great advantages, but the time usually
chosen to send young men abroad, is, I think, of all other,
that which renders them least capable of reaping those
advantages.^ . . . But from sixteen to one and twenty,
which is the ordinary time of travel, men are of all their
lives, the least suited to these improvements. The first
season to get foreign languages and form the tongue to
their true accents, I should think, should be from seven to

378

COMMENT ON THE GRAND TOUR

foiirteen or sixteen, and then, too, a tutor with them is
useful and necessary, who may, with those languages,
teach them other things. But to put them out of their par-
ents' view at a great distance, under a governor, when they
think themselves to be too much men to be governed by
others, and yet have not prudence and experience enough
to govern themselves, what is it, but to expose them to all
the greatest dangers of their whole life when they have the
least fence and guard against them? . . . The time, there-
fore, I should think the fittest for a young gentleman to be
sent abroad, would be, either when he is younger, under a
tutor, whom he might be the better for; or when he is some
years old, without a governor; when he is of age to gov-
ern himself, and make observations of what he finds in
other countries worthy his notice, and that might be of
use to him after his return; and when too, being acquainted
with the laws and fashions, the natural and moral advan-
tages and defects of his own coimtry, he has something to
exchange with those abroad, from whose conversation he
hoped to reap any knowledge. The ordering of travel
otherwise is that, I imagine, which makes so many young
gentlemen come back so little improved by it: And if
they do bring home with them any knowledge of the
places and people they have seen, it is often an admiration
of theworst and vainest practices they met with abroad. . . .
And indeed how can it be otherwise, going abroad at the
age they do under the care of another, who is to provide
their necessaries, and make their observations for them?
Thus under the shelter and pretence of a governor, think-
ing themselves excused from standing upon their own legs,
or being accountable for their conduct, they very seldom
trouble themselves with inquiries, or making useful obser-
vations of their own. ... He that is sent out to travel at
the age and with the thoughts of a man designing to im-
prove himself, may get into the conversation and acquaint-
ance of persons of condition where he comes; which, though
a thing of most advantage to a gentleman that travels;
yet I ask, amongst our young men, that go abroad under

379

COMMENT ON THE GRAND TOUR

tutors, what one is there of an hundred that ever visits any
person of quality? much less make an acquaintance with
such from whose conversation he may learn what is good
breeding in that country, and what is worth observation
in it; though from such persons it is, one may learn more
in one day, than in a year's rambling from one inn to an-
other. This, how true soever it be, will not, I fear, alter the
custom, which has cast the time of travel upon the worst
part of a man's life; but for reasons not taken from their
improvement." ^

At the beginning of the eighteenth century an English
tourist, by no means unduly prejudiced in favor of the
Continent, remarks upon his countrymen in the dedica-
tion of his book : "Too many of them go into foreign regions
to gather their trifles and follies, and to forget, nay,
often to hate their own country; and few have either the
means or the capacity to make those useful observations
that may be serviceable to their own reputation or their
country." ^

In general agreement with these views is a paper in the
"Spectator"^ for April 28, 17 12, which comments on a
young fellow being taken by his mother to travel in France
and Italy: "From hence my Thoughts took Occasion to
ramble into the general Notion of Travelling, as it is now
made a Part of Education. Nothing is more frequent than
to take a Lad from Grammar and Taw, and under the
Tuition of some poor Scholar who is willing to be banished
for thirty Pounds a Year, and a little Victuals, send him
crying and snivelling into foreign Countries. Thus he
spends his time as Children do at Puppet-Shows, and with
much the same Advantage, in staring and gaping at an
amazing Variety of strange things: strange indeed to one
who is not prepared to comprehend the Reasons and
Meaning of them: whilst he should be laying the solid
Foundations of Knowledge in his Mind, and furnishing it
with just Rules to direct his future Progress in Life under
some skilful Master of the Art of Instruction. ... I wish.
Sir, you would make People understand, that Travel

380

COMMENT ON THE GRAND TOUR

is really the last Step to be taken in the Institution of
Youth, and to set out with it is to begin where they should
end."

. Incomparably more brilliant than these mild criticisms
are Pope's famous lines in the "Dunciad," ^ in which he
traces the path of the brainless and dissipated spendthrift
through Europe. Every stroke tells, and the picture is
literally true. Addressing the Goddess of Dulness on her
throne the attendant orator of her court presents the
youth on his return from abroad : —

"Thro' School and College, thy kind cloud o'ercast,
Safe and unseen the young ^neas past:
Thence bursting glorious, all at once let down,
Stunn'd with his giddy Larum half the town.
Intrepid then, o'er seas and lands he flew:
Europe he saw, and Europe saw him too.
There all thy gifts and graces we display,
Thou, only thou, directing all our way!
To where the Seine, obsequious as she runs,
Pours at great Bourbon's feet her silken sons;
Or Tiber, now no longer Roman, rolls.
Vain of Italian arts, Italian souls:
To happy Convents, bosom'd deep in vines,
Where slumber Abbots, purple as their wines;
To Isles of fragrance, lily-sUver'd vales,
Diffusing languor in the panting gales:
To lands of singing, or of dancing slaves,
Love-whisp'ring woods, and lute-resounding waves.
But chief her shrine where naked Venus keeps.
And Cupids ride the Lion of the Deeps;
Where, eas'd of Fleets, the Adriatic main
Wafts the smooth Eunuch and enamour'd swain.
Led by my hand, he saunter'd Europe round,
And gather'd ev'ry Vice on Christian ground;
Saw ev'ry Court, heard ev'ry King declare
His royal sense of Op'ras or the Fair;
The Stews and Palace equally explor'd

Intrigu'd with glory and with spirit w ;

Try'd all hors d'ceuvres, all liqueurs defin'd.
Judicious drank, and greatly daring din'd;
Dropt the dull lumber of the Latin store,
SpoU'd his own language and acquir'd no more;
All Classic learning lost on Classic ground.
And last tum'd Air, the Echo of a Sound!
See now, half-cur'd and perfectly well-bred.
With nothing but a Solo in his head."

381

COMMENT ON THE GRAND TOUR

With probably more real concern for the welfare of his
countrymen, Gilbert West's rather dull poem on "The
Abuse of Travelling"^ presents fifty-eight Spenserian
stanzas of mild satire on the young fellows who ape foreign
fashions and foreign vices. He commends the law of an-
cient Sparta that forbade the young Spartan to travel.
Vagueness pervades the whole poem. The following lines
presumably refer to France : —

"For to that seminary of fashions vain
The rich and noble from all parts repair,
Where grown enamour'd of the gaudy train,
And courteous haviour gent and debonair,
They cast to imitate such semblaunce fair;
And deeming meanly of their native land,
Their own rough virtues they disdain to wear.
And back returning drest by foreign hand,
Ne other matter care, ne other understand."

Of a very different type, but not less convincing, is
Chesterfield's contribution to the "World" for May 3,
1753, in the form of a pretended letter from a country
gentleman on educating a son and daughter abroad: "We
complied with custom in the education of both. My daugh-
ter learned some French and some dancing; and my son
passed nine years at Westminster School in learning the
words of two languages, long since dead, and not yet above
half revived. When I took him away from school, I resolved
to send him directly abroad, having been at Oxford myself."

The gentleman's wife approved the design, but urged her
husband to take also the daughter and herself and live
abroad. The daughter joined in the petition: "'Ay, dear
papa,' said she, 'let us go with brother to Paris; it will
be the charmingest thing in the world; we shall see all the
newest fashions there; I shall learn to dance of Marseille;
in short, I shall be quite another creature after it. You see
how my cousin Kitty was improved by going to Paris last
year; I hardly knew her again when she came back: do,
dear papa, let us go.' . . .1 found by all this, that the attack
upon me was a concerted one, and that both my wife and
daughter were strongly infected with that migrating distem-

382

COMMENT ON THE GRAND TOUR

per, which has of late been so epidemical in this kingdom,
and which annually canies such numbers of our private
families to Paris, to expose themselves there as English,
and here, after their return, as French. Insomuch that I
am assured that the French call those swarms of English
which now, in a manner, overrun France, a second incursion
of the Goths and Vandals."

The father's consent is at length extorted, and the family-
cross the Channel to Calais, suffering from seasickness on
the way. At Calais "the inexorable custom-house officers
took away half the few things which we had carried with
us." On the road the hired chaises "broke down with us
at least every ten miles. Twice we were overturned, and
some of us hurt, though there are no bad roads in France.
At length, the sixth day, we got to